IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


1.25 


itt  IM   122 

[If  HA   "^ 


^\.  \>. 


\'' 


Photographic 

Sdmoes 

Carporation 


4^ 


as  WHY  MAM  tTRNT 

WltSTM,N.V.  I4>M 
(7U)t73-4S01 


4fS 


s 


> 


..;    .    * 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


' 


Caradian  Inttituta  for  Historical  Microraproduetiona  /  Inatltut  Canadian  da  miororaproduetions  historiquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniquat  at  bibliographiquat 


Tha  inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  i3aat 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  aignificantiy  changa 
tha  uaual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


D 


n 


n 


Colourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I   Covars  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagte 

Covara  raatorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  raataurte  at/ou  palliculte 

Covar  titia  miasing/ 

La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

Colourad  mapa/ 

Cartaa  giographiquaa  an  coulaur 

Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


I     I   Colourad  plataa  and/or  illuatrationa/ 


Planchaa  at/ou  illuatrationa  an  coulaur 

Bound  with  othar  material/ 
RalM  avac  d'autraa  documanta 

Tight  binding  may  cauaa  ahadowa  or  diatortlon 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  llure  aerrAe  peut  cauaer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
diatortlon  la  long  de  la  marge  IntArieisre 

Blank  leevee  edded  during  reatoration  may 
appeer  within  the  text.  Whenever  poaaibia,  theae 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  ae  peut  que  certainea  pagea  blanchaa  ajoutiee 
lore  d'une  reatauration  apperaiaaent  dana  la  texte, 
mala,  loraque  cele  Atait  poaaibia,  cae  pagea  n'ont 
pea  «t4  fiim^aa. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  la  meilleur  exemplaira 
qu'il  lui  a  At*  poaaibia  da  ae  procurer.  Lea  d6taila 
de  cet  exemplaira  qui  sont  paut-Atre  uniquea  du 
point  da  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dana  la  m^thoda  normala  de  filmaga 
aont  indiqute  ci-deaaoua. 


I — I  Coloured  pagea/ 


Pagea  de  couleur 

Pagea  damaged/ 
Pagea  andommagtea 


□   Pagea  raatorad  lind/or  laminated/ 
Pagea  reataurAea  at/ou  pellicultea 

Fyl^ Pagea  diacolourad,  atainad  or  foxed/ 
I     I   Pagea  dAcoiorAea,  tachatiea  ou  piquAea 

□   Pagea  detached/ 
Pagea  dAtachAea 

r^  Showthrough/ 
I I   Tranaparence 

□   Quality  of  print  variea/ 
Quaiiti  InAgala  de  I'impreaaion 

□   Includea  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  metiriel  suppMmentitire 

□   Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  diaponible 


Th 
to 


Th 
po 
of 
fill 


Or 
be 
th( 
■ii 
ot 
fir 
sic 
or 


D 


Pegee  wholly  or  partially  obacured  by  errata 
alipa,  tiaauea.  etc.,  have  been  ref limed  to 
enaure  the  beat  poaaibia  image/ 
Lea  pagea  totalement  ou  pertiellement 
obaeureiea  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure. 
etc.,  ont  At*  filmiea  A  nouveau  de  fa^on  A 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  poeaible. 


Th 
ah 
Til 
wl 

Ml 
dif 
en 
bei 
rig 
rei 
m« 


0Additionel  comments:/ 
Commentairea  supplAmantairaa: 


Irrfflulir  paginatkNi :  III-  xxiv.  (13)-  343  p. 


Thia  item  la  filmed  at  the  reduction  retio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  eat  filmA  au  taux  de  rAduotion  indiquA  ci-deaaoua. 


10X 

14X 

im 

22X 

2SX 

MX 

J 

ttX 

itx 

aox 

, 

MX 

« 

2tX 

32X 

The  copy  filmed  here  he*  been  reproduced  thenke 
to  the  generoeity  of: 


L'exempleire  film*  fut  reproduit  grice  A  le 
gAnArositA  de: 


UnhrtnM  dt  Shtrbrooke 


UnivenM  de  Sherbrooke 


The  imeges  eppeering  here  ere  the  beet  quelity 
poeeible  coneidering  the  condition  end  iegibiiity 
of  the  originei  copy  end  in  keeping  with  the 
fiiming  contrect  specificetione. 


Lee  imeges  suiventes  ont  4t4  reproduites  evec  ie 
plus  grsnd  soin,  compte  tenu  de  ie  condition  et 
de  is  nettetA  de  l'exempleire  fiimA,  et  en 
conformit6  evec  les  conditions  du  contrst  de 
fiimege. 


Originei  copies  in  printed  peper  covere  ere  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  end  ending  on 
the  lest  pege  with  e  printed  or  illustreted  impres- 
sion, or  the  beck  cover  when  eppropriete.  All 
other  originei  copies  ere  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  pege  with  e  printed  or  illustreted  impres- 
sion, end  ending  on  the  lest  pege  with  e  printed 
or  illustreted  impression. 


The  lest  recorded  freme  on  eech  microfiche 
shell  contein  the  symbol  — ^  (meening  "CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  V  (meening  "END"), 
whicJtever  epplies. 


Les  exempleires  origineux  dont  le  couverture  en 
pepier  est  ImprimAe  sent  filmis  en  commen^ent 
per  le  premier  plet  et  en  terminent  soit  per  le 
dernlAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustretion,  soit  per  le  second 
plet,  selon  le  ces.  Tous  les  eutres  exempleires 
origineux  sent  filmis  en  commen^ent  per  is 
premiAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustrstion  et  en  terminent  per 
le  dernlAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboies  suivents  oppsrettre  sur  le 
derniAre  imege  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
ces:  le  symbols  — »•  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
eymbole  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


ly/leps,  pletes,  cherts,  etc.,  mey  be  filmed  et 
different  reduction  retios.  Those  too  lerge  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ere  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hsnd  corner,  left  to 
right  end  top  to  bottom,  es  meny  fremes  es 
required.  The  following  diegrems  illustrote  the 
method: 


Les  csrtes.  plenches,  tebleeux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmAs  k  des  teux  de  reduction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grend  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  il  est  film*  k  pertir 
de  I'engle  supArieur  geuche,  de  geuche  i  droite, 
et  de  heut  en  bee,  en  prenent  le  nombre 
d'imeges  nAceeeeire.  Les  diegremmes  suivents 
illustrent  le  mAthode. 


12  3 


nx 


1 

2 

3 

4 

8 

e 

THE 


HIAWATHA  LEGENDS 


Itfi 


^«H,..i,  ,.,.^.- 


I 


V 


THE  MYTH 


OP 


HIAWATHA, 


AND 


OTHER  ORAL  LEGENDS, 


MYTHOLOGIC  AND  ALLEGORIC, 


OF  TUB 


NORTH  AMERICAN  INDIANS. 


BY 


I 


HENRY  E.  SCHOOLCRAFT,  IX.  D. 


t 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT   &   CO. 

LONDON! 

TRUBNER    &    CO. 
1856. 


r 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  lSo6,  by 

HENRY  R.  SCHOOLCRAFT, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  in  and  for 
the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


..  v^*/ •-•%.■  \^  -s,  ■  •- 


f».' 


TO 

PROF.  HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 

SIR:— 

Porrait  me  to  dedicate  to  you,  this  volume  of  Indian 
myths  and  legends,  derived  from  the  story-telling  circle  of 
the  native  wigwams.  Tliat  they  indicate  the  jiossession,  by 
the  Vesperic  tribes,  of  mental  resources  of  a  very  character- 
istic kind — furnishing,  in  fact,  a  new  point  from  which  to 
judge  the  race,  and  to  excite  intellectual  sympathies,  you 
have  most  felicitously  shown  in  your  poem  of  Hiawatha. 
Not  only  so,  but  you  have  demonstrated,  by  this  pleasing 
series  of  pictures  of  Indian  life,  sentiment,  and  invention, 
that  the  theme  of  the  native  lore  reveals  one  of  the  true 
sources  of  our  literary  independence.  Greece  and  Rome,  Kng- 
land  and  Italy,  have  so  long  funiished,  if  they  have  not 
exhausted,  the  field  of  poetic  culture,  that  it  •,  at  least, 
refreshing  to  find  both  in  theme  and  metre,  something  new. 

Very  truly  yours, 

HENRY  R.  SCUOOLCRAFT. 


1* 


PREFACE. 


There  is  but  one  consideration  of  much  mo- 
ment necessary  to  be  premised  respecting  these 
legends  and  myths.  It  is  this:  they  are  versions 
of  oral  relations  from  the  lips  of  the  Indians,  and 
are  transcripts  of  the  thought  and  invention  of  the 
aboriginal  mind.  As  such,  they  furnish  illustra- 
tions of  Indian  character  and  opinions  on  subjects 
which  the  ever-cautious  and  suspicious  minds  of 
this  people  have,  heretofore,  concealed.  They 
place  the  man  altogether  in  a  new  phasis.  They 
reflect  him  as  he  is.  They  show  us  what  he  be- 
lieves, hopes,  fears,  wishes,  expects,  worships,  lives 
for,  dies  for.  They  are  always  true  to  the  Indian 
manners  and  customs,  opinions  and  theories.  They 
never  rise  above  them;  they  never  sink  below 
them.  Placing  him  in  almost  every  possible  posi- 
tion, as  a  hunter,  a  warrior,  a  magician,  a  pow-wow, 
a  medicine  man,  a  meda,  a  husband,  a  father,  a 
friend,  a  foe,  a  stranger,  a  wild  singer  of  songs  to 
monedos  or  fetishes,  a  trembler  in  terror  of  demons 


VIU 


PREFACE. 


i 


and  wood  genii,  and  of  ghosts,  witches,  and  sor- 
cerers— now  in  the  enjoyment  of  plenty  in  feasts — 
now  pale  and  weak  with  abstinence  in  fasts;  now 
transforming  beasts  and  birds,  or  plants  and  trees 
into  men,  or  men  into  beasts  by  necromancy ;  it 
is  impossible  not  to  perceive  what  he  perpetually 
thinks,  believes,  and  feels.  The  very  language  of 
the  man  is  employed,  and  his  vocabulary  is  not 
enlarged  by  words  and  phrases  foreign  to  it.  Other 
sources  of  information  depict  his  exterior  habits 
and  outer  garb  and  deportment;  but  in  these 
legends  and  myths,  we  perceive  the  interior  man, 
and  are  made  cognizant  of  the  secret  workings  of 
his  mind,  and  heart,  and  soul. 

To  make  these  collections,  of  which  the  portions 
now  submitted  are  but  a  part,  the  leisure  hours  of 
many  seasons,  passed  in  an  official  capacity  in  the 
solitude  of  the  wilderness  far  away  from  society, 
have  been  employed,  with  the  study  of  the  lan- 
guages, and  with  the  very  best  interpreters.  They 
have  been  carefully  translated,  written,  and  re- 
written, to  obtain  their  true  spirit  and  meaning, 
expunging  passages,  where  it  was  necessary  to 
avoid  tediousness  of  narration,  triviality  of  cir- 
cumstance, tautologies,  gross  incongruities,  and 
vulgarities;  but  adding  no  incident  and  drawing 
no  conclusion,  which  the  verbal  narration  did  not 


J 


PREFACE. 


ix 


imperatively  require  or  sanction.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  mistake  the  import  of  terms  and  phrases 
where  the  means  of  their  analysis  were  ample.  If 
the  style  is  sometimes  found  to  be  bald,  and  of 
jejune  simplicity,  the  original  is  characteristically 
so.  Few  adjectives  are  employed,  because  there 
are  few  in  the  original.*  The  Indian  effects  his 
purposes,  almost  entirely,  by  changes  of  the  verb 
and  demonstrative  pronoun,  or  by  adjective  inflec- 
tions of  the  substantive.  Good  and  bad,  high  and 
low,  black  and  white,  are  in  all  cases  employed  in 
a  transitive  sense,  and  with  strict  relation  to  the 
objects  characterized.  The  Indian  compound  terms 
are  so  descriptive,  so  graphic,  so  local,  so  charac- 
terizing, yet  so  flexible  and  transpositive,  that  the 
legends  derive  no  little  of  their  characteristic  fea- 
tures as  well  as  melody  of  utterance  from  these 
traits.  Sometimes  these  terms  cannot  be  literally 
translated,  and  they  cannot,  in  these  cases,  be  left 
out  without  damaging  the  stories. 

With  regard  to  the  thought-work  of  the  legends, 
those  who  have  deemed  the  Indians  exclusively  a 


Id 

)t 


*  If  Edwards  the  younger,  to  whom  the  Mohican  was  fami- 
liar from  his  childhood,  could  say,  that  he  doubted  whether 
there  were  any  true  adjectives  in  that  language,  it  can  easily 
be  imagined  that  the  subtlety  of  the  transitive  principle  had 
not  been  sufficiently  analyzed ;  but  the  remark  is  here  quoted 
in  relation  to  the  paucity  of  adjectives. 


PREFACE. 


cruel  and  blood-thirsty  race,  always  seeking  re- 
venge, always  invoking  evil  powers,  will  not  be 
disappointed  that  giants,  enchanters,  demons,  and 
dark  supernatural  agencies,  should  form  so  large 
a  part  of  the  dramatis  personse.  Surprise  has  been 
expressed,*  that  the  kindlier  affections  come  in  for 
notice  at  all,  and  particularly  at  the  occurrence  of 
such  refined  and  terse  allegories  as  the  origin  of 
Indian  Corn,  Winter  and  Spring,  and  the  poetic 
conception  of  the  Celestial  Sisters,  &c.  I  can  only 
add,  that  my  own  surprise  was  as  great  when  these 
traits  were  first  revealed.  And  the  trait  may  be 
quoted  to  show  how  deeply  the  tribes  have  wan- 
dered away  from  the  type  of  the  human  race  in 
which  love  and  affection  absorb  the  heart;  and 
how  little,  indeed,  we  know  of  their  mental  cha- 
racter. .«  M 

When  the  volumes  of  Algio  Researches,  in  1839, 
were  published,  the  book-trade  had  hardly  awak- 
ened to  that  wide  and  diffusive  impulse  which  it 
has  since  received.  No  attention  had  been  given 
to  topics  so  obscure  as  inquiries  into  the  character 
of  the  Indian  mind — if,  indeed,  it  was  thought  the 
Indian  had  any  mind  at  all.  It  was  still  supposed 
that  the  Indian  was,  at  all  times  and  in  all  places, 
"  a  stoic  of  the  woods,"  always  statuesque,  always 

*  Vide  Criterion,  No.  XXIII.  p.  301. 


PREFACE. 


zi 


formal,  always  passionless,  always  on  stilts,  always 
speaking  in  metaphors,  a  cold  embodiment  of 
bravery,  endurance,  and  savage  heroism.  Writers 
depicted  him  as  a  man  who  uttered  nothing  but 
high  principles  of  natural  right,  who  always  ha- 
rangued eloquently,  and  was  ready,  with  unmoved 
philosophy  on  all  occasions,  to  sing  his  death-song 
at  the  stake  to  show  the  world  how  a  warrior 
should  die. 

These  legends  have  been  out  of  print  several 
years.  They  are  now  reproduced,  with  additional 
legendary  lore  of  this  description  from  the  port- 
folios of  the  author,  in  a  revised,  and,  it  is  believed, 
a  more  terse,  condensed,  and  acceptable  form,  both 
in  a  literary  and  business  garb.  The  songs  and 
chants  which  form  so  striking  a  part  of  the  original 
legends,  and  also  the  poetic  use  of  aboriginal  ideas, 
are  transferred  to  the  end  of  the  volume,  and  will 
thus,  it  is  apprehended,  relieve  and  simplify  the 
text. 

HENEY  R.  SCHOOLCRAFT. 

WAsumoTON,  D.  C,  April  28, 1856. 


ir*^ 


"WfeWWiip^^ 


% 


CONTENTS. 


Hiawatha ;  or,  Manabozho     ..... 

Paup-puk-keewiss  ...... 

Osseo;  or,  the  Son  of  tli«  EviMiiutr  Star 

Kwasiiid  ;  or,  the  tearfully  Strong  Man 

The  Jeehi ;  or,  Two  Ghosts     ..... 

lagoo     ......... 

Sliawondasee  ....... 

I'ui'k  Wudj  Iniiiees  ;  or,  the  Vanishing  Little  Men 

I'ezhiu  and  Wabose  ;  or,  the  Lynx  and  Hare 

Peboan  and  Seegwun.    An  Allegory  »»f  Winter  and  Spring 

Mon-daw-min  ;  or,  the  Origin  of  Indian  Corn 

Nezhik-e-wa-wa-sun ;  or,  the  Lone  Lightning 

Tho  Ak  Uk  O  Jeesh  ;  or,  the  Groundhog  Family    . 

Opeechee  ;  or,  the  Origin  of  tho  Robin  . 

Shingebiss.     An  Allegory  of  Self-reliance 

The  Star  Family  ;  or,  tho  Celestial  Sisters 

OjeegAnnung;  cr,  the  Summer-Maker 

Chileeli ;  or,  tlie  Red  Lover 

Bheem,  tlH3  forsaken  Boy,  or  Wolf  Brother    . 

Mishemokwa ;  or,  the  War  witli  the  Hipantic  IVcar  wear- 
ing the  precious  prize  of  tho  Necklace  of  Wampum, 
or  tlie  Origin  of  the  Small  Bhwk  liear 

The  Red  Swan . 

Tau-wau-cbee-hezkaw  :  or,  tlio  White  Fwather 
2 


52 
71 

77 

81 

85 

88 

90 

95 

96 

09 

105 

107 

109 

in 
11(1 

121 
12iJ 


142 

180 


r 


f*" 


"SBT 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


Taue 

Pauguk,  and  the  raytliological  interpretation  of  Hiawatha  188 

li'iia,  the  Wanderer;  or,  Magic  Bundle  ....  194 

Mislioslia  ;  or,  the  Magician  of  Lake  Suix;rior         .         .  202 

J'eeta  Kway,  the  Foam- Woman 213 

Pali-hah-undootah,  the  Red  Head           ....  216 

The  White  Htone  Canoe 223 

Onaiazo,  the  Sky-Walker.  A  Legend  of  a  Visit  to  the  Sun  228 

Bosh-kwa-dosh ;  or,  the  Mastodon  ....  233 
The  Sun-Cat(dier ;  or,  the  Boy  who  set  a  Snare  for  the 

Sun.  A  Myth  of  the  Origin  of  the  Dormouse  .  .  239 
Wa-wa-he-zo-win  ;  or,  the  Swing  on  the  Pictured  Rocks 

of  Lake  Superior 243 

Mukakee  Mindemoea  ;  or,  the  Toad-Woman           .         .  246 

Eroneniera  ;  or,  an  Indian  Visit  to  the  Great  Spirit        .  251 

The  Six  Hawks  ;  or,  Broken  Wing         ....  258 

Weeng,  the  Spirit  of  Sleep 262 

Addik  Kum  Maig  ;  or,  the  Origin  of  the  White  Fish      .  265 

Bokwewa  ;  or,  the  Humphack  Magician  .  .  .  269 
Aggodagauda  and  his  Daughter ;  or,  the  Man  with  liis 

Leg  tied  up 274 

Iosco  ;  or,  the  Prairie  Boys'  Visit  to  the  Sun  and  Moon  278 

Th(!  Knchanted  Moccasins 293 

Leolinau.     A  Chippewa  Tale 299 


Wild  Notes  of  tht'  I'ihblgwun 


.     303 


i& 


TAiiK 

188 
1!)4 
.  202 
.  213 
.  216 
.  223 
n  228 
.  233 


239 


i^s 


303 


* 


INTRODUCTION. 


Hitherto,  Indian  opinion,  on  abstract  subjects,  has 
been  a  sealed  book.  It  has  been  impossible  to  extract 
the  truth  from  his  evasive  replies.  If  asked  his  opinion 
of  religion  in  the  abstract,  he  knows  not  the  true  mean- 
ing of  the  term.  His  ideas  of  the  existence  of  a  Deity 
are  vague,  at  best ;  and  the  lines  of  separation  between 
it  and  necromancy,  medical  magic,  and  demonology  are 
too  faintly  separated  to  allow  him  to  speak  with  discrimi- 
nation. The  best  reply,  as  to  his  religious  views,  his 
mythology,  his  cosmogony,  and  his  general  views  as  to 
the  mode  and  manifestations  of  the  government  and 
providences  of  God,  are  to  be  found  in  his  myths  and 
legends.  When  he  assembles  his  lodge-circle,  to  hear 
stories,  in  seasons  of  leisure  and  retirement  in  the  depths 
of  the  forest,  he  recites  precisely  what  he  believes  on 
these  subjects.  That  restlessness,  suspicion,  and  mis-, 
trust  of  motive,  which  has  closed  his  mind  to  inquiry, 
is  at  rest  here.  If  he  mingles  fiction  with  history,  there 
l>llittle  of  the  latter,  and  it  is  very  easy  to  see  where 
fa^lliltory  ends  and  fiction  begins.  While  he  amuses  his 
hearers  with  tales  of  the  adventures  of  giants  and  dwarfs, 
and  the  conflicts  of  Manito  with  Manito,  fairies  and  en- 
chanters, monsters  and  demons,  he  also  throws  in  some 
few  grains  of  instruction,  in  the  form  of  allegory  and 
fable,  which  enable  us  to  perceive  glimpses  of  the  heart 
and  its  allectiuns. 


XVI 


INTRODUCTION. 


It  is  also  by  Iiis  myths  that  wc  arc  al)le  to  trace  con- 
nections with  the  human  family  in  other  parts  of  the 
world.  Yet,  where  the  analogies  are  so  general,  there 
is  a  constant  liability  to  mistakes.  Of  these  foreign 
analogies  of  myth  lore,  the  least  tangible,  it  is  believed, 
is  that  which  has  been  suggested  with  the  Scandinavian 
mythology.  That  mythology  is  of  so  marked  and  pecu- 
liar a  character,  that  it  has  not  been  distinctly  traced 
out  of  the  great  circle  of  tribes  of  the  Indo-Germanic 
family.  Odin,  and  his  terrific  pantheon  of  war-gods 
and  social  deities,  could  only  exist  in  the  dreary  lati- 
tudes of  storms  and  fire,  which  produce  a  Hecla  and  a 
Maelstrom.  These  latitudes  have  invariably  produced 
nations,  whose  influence  has  been  felt  in  an  elevating 
power  over  the  world ;  and  whose  tracks  have  every- 
where been  marked  by  the  highest  evidences  of  in- 
ductive intellect,  centralizing  energy,  and  practical  wis- 
dom and  forecast.  From  such  a  source  the  Indian 
could  have  derived  none  of  his  vague  symbolisms  and 
mental  idiosyncrasies,  which  have  left  him,  as  he  is 
found  to-day,  without  a  government  and  without  a  God. 
Far  more  probable  is  it,  in  seeking  for  analogies  to  his 
mythology  and  cosmogony,  to  resort  to  the  era  of  that 
primal  reconstruction  of  the  theory  of  a  Deity,  when 
the  human  philosophy  in  the  oriental  world  ascribed 
the  godship  of  the  universe  to  the  subtile,  ineffable,  and 
indestructible  essences  of  fire  and  light,  as  revealed  i'l^^jk 
the  sun.  Such  were  the  errors  of  the  search  for  divllil^  " 
truth,  power,  and  a  controllable  Deity,  which  early  de-  -^^ 
vcloped  themselves  in  the  dogmas  of  the  Assyrians, 
Egyptians,  rersiaiis,  and  wandering  hordes  of  Northern 
Asia. 

Authors  inform  us  that  the  worship  of  the  sun  lies  at 
the  foundation  of  .ill  the  ancient  mythologies,  deei>ly 


INTRODUCTION. 


XVll 


con- 
f  the 
there 
reign 
eved, 
avian 
pecu- 
raccd 
manic 
•-gods 
y  lati- 
and  a 
>duced 
vating 
every- 
of  in- 
:al  wis- 
Iiidian 
IS  and 
he  is 
God. 
to  his 
f  that 
when 
cril)ed 
le,  and 
lied  in 


.l^fP 


|rly  de- 
yrians, 
jrthern 

lies  at 
(deeply 


enveloped  as  they  are,  when  followed  over  Asia  Minor 
and  Europe,  in  symbolic  and  lingnistical  subtleties 
and  refinements.  The  symbolical  fires  erected  on  tem- 
ples and  altars  to  Baal,  Chemosh,  and  Moloch,  burned 
brightly  in  the  valley  of  the  Euphrates,*  long  before 
the  pyramids  of  Egypt  were  erected,  or  its  priestly- 
hoarded  hieroglyphic  wisdom  resulted  in  a  phonetic 
alphabet.  In  Persia,  these  altars  were  guarded  and 
religiously  fed  by  a  consecrated  body  of  magical  priest- 
hood, who  recognized  a  Deity  in  the  essence  of  an  eter- 
nal fire  and  a  world-pervading  light. 

The  same  dogma,  derived  eastwardly  and  not  west- 
wardly  through  Europe,  was  fully  installed  at  Atacama 
and  Cuzco,  in  Peru,  at  Cholulu,  on  the  magnificent 
and  volcano-lighted  peaks  of  Mexico;  and  along  the 
fertile  deltas  of  the  Mississippi  valley.  Altar-beds  for 
a  sacred  fire,  lit  to  the  Great  Spirit,  under  the  name 
and  symbolic  form  of  Ceezis,  or  the  sun,  where  the 
frankincense  of  the  nicotiana  was  offered,  with  hymns 
and  genuflections,  have  been  discovered,  in  many  in- 
stances, under  the  earth-heaps  and  artificial  mounds 
and  places  of  sepulture  of  the  ancient  inhabitants.  In- 
telligent Indians  yet  living,  among  the  North  American 
tribes,  point  out  the  symbol  of  the  sun,  in  their  ancient 
muzzinabikons,  or  rock-inscriptions,  and  also  amid  the 
idiographic  tracery  and  bark-scrolls  of  the  hieratic  and 
magical  medicine  songs. 

^  "With  a  cosmogony  which  ascribes  the  creation  of  the 
Geezha  Monedo,  who  is  symbolized  by  the  sun,  the 
myth  of  Hiawatha  is  almost  a  necessary  consequence 
in  carrying  out  his  mundane  intentions  to  the  tribes, 
who  believed  themselves  to  be  peculiar  objects  of  hia 

*  Gross, 
2* 


r 


XVlll 


INTllODUCTION. 


love  and  benevolence.  This  myth  is  noticed  by  the 
earliest  explorers  of  this  continent,  who  have  bestowed 
attention  on  the  subject,  under  the  various  names  of 
Inigorio,  Yoskilia,  Taren-Yawagon,  Atahentsic,  Mana- 
bozho,  and  Micabo.  A  mythology  appears  indispensable 
to  a  rude  and  ignorant  race  like  the  Indians.  Their 
vocabulary  is  nearly  limited  to  objects  which  can  be 
seen  and  handled.  Abstractions  are  only  reached  by 
the  introduction  of  some  term  which  restores  the  idea. 
The  Deity  is  a  mystery,  of  whose  power  they  must 
chiefly  judge  by  the  phenomena  before  them.  Every- 
thing is  mysterious  which  is  not  understood;  and, 
unluckily,  they  understand  little  or  nothing.  If  any 
phenomenon,  or  existence  not  before  them,  is  to  be 
described,  the  language  must  be  symbolic.  The  result 
is,  that  the  Indian  languages  are  peculiarly  the  lan- 
guages of  symbols,  metaphors,  and  figures.  Without 
this  feature,  everything  not  in  the  departments  of 
eating,  drinking,  and  living,  and  the  ordinary  trans- 
actions of  the  chase  and  forest,  would  not  be  capable 
of  description. 

When  the  Great  Sacred  White  Hare  of  Heaven,  the 
Manabozho  of  the  Algrics,  and  Hiawatha  of  the  Iro- 
quois, kills  the  Great  Misshikinabik,  or  prince  of  ser- 
pents, it  is  understood  that  he  destroys. the  great  power 
of  evil.  It  is  a  deity  whom  he  destroys,  a  sort  of 
Typhon  or  Ahriman  in  the  system.  It  is  immediately 
found,  on  going  to  his  lodge,  that  it  is  a  man,  a  hero, ' 
a  chief,  who  is  sick,  and  he  must  be  cured  by  simples 
and  magic  songs  like  the  rest  of  the  Indians.  He  is 
surrounded  with  Indian  doctors,  who  sing  magic  songs. 
He  has  all  the  powers  of  a  deity,  and,  when  he  dies,  the 
land  is  subjected  to  a  flood ;  from  which  Hiawatha  alone 
escapes.      This  play  between  the  zoonic  and  mortal 


INTRODUCTION. 


XIX 


shapes  of  heroes  must  constantly  be  observed,  in  high  as 
well  as  in  ordinary  characters.  To  have  the  name  of  an 
animal,  or  bird,  or  reptile,  is  to  have  his  powers.  When 
Pena  runs,  on  a  wager  of  life,  with  the  Great  Sorcerer, 
he  changes  himself  sometimes  into  a  partridge,  and 
sometimes  into  a  wolf,  to  outrun  him. 

The  Indian's  necessities  of  language  at  all  times  re- 
quire personifications  and  linguistic  creations.  He 
cannot  talk  on  abstract  topics  without  them.  Myths 
and  spiritual  agencies  are  constantly  required.  The 
ordinary  domestic  life  of  the  Indian  is  described  in  plain 
words  and  phrases,  but  whatever  is  mysterious  or  ab- 
stract must  be  brought  under  mythological  figures  and 
influences.  Birds  and  quadrupeds  must  be  made  to 
talk.  Weeng  is  the  spirit  of  somnolency  in  the  lodge 
stories.  He  is  provided  with  a  class  of  little  invisible 
emissaries,  who  ascend  the  forehead,  armed  with  tiny 
war-clubs,  with  which  they  strike  the  tem])les,  pro- 
ducing sleep.  Pauguk  is  the  personification  of  death. 
He  is  armed  with  a  bow  and  arrows,  to  execute  his 
mortal  functions.  Hosts  of  a  small  fairy-like  creation, 
called  Ininees,  little  men,  or  Pukwudj  Ininees,  vanish- 
ing little  men,  inhabit  cliff's,  and  picturesque  and  ro- 
mantic scenes.  Another  class  of  marine  or  water 
spirits,  called  Nebunabaigs,  occupy  the  rivers  and  lakes. 
There  is  an  articulate  voice  in  all  the  varied  sounds  of 
the  forest — the  groaning  of  its  branches,  and  the  whis- 
pering of  its  leaves.  Local  Manitos,  or  fetishes,  in- 
habit every  grove;  and  hence  he  is  never  alone. 

To  facilitate  allusion  to  the  braggadocio,  or  the 
extravagant  in  observation,  the  mythos  of  lagoo  is 
added  to  his  vocabulary.  The  North  and  the  South,  the 
East  and  the  West,  are  prefigured  as  the  brothers  of 
Hiawatha,  or  the  laught('r-i)rovokiiig  Manuljoy.ho.      It 


XX 


INTUODUCTION. 


is  impossible  to  peruse  the  Indian  myths  and  legends 
without  perceiving  the  governing  motives  of  his  rea- 
sons, hopes,  wishes,  and  fears,  the  principles  of  his 
actions,  and  his  general  belief  in  life,  death,  and  im- 
mortality. ,He  is  no  longer  an  nigma.  They  com- 
pletely unmask  the  man.  They  lay  open  his  most  secret 
theories  of  the  phenomena  of  spirit  life ;  of  necromancy, 
witchcraft,  and  demonology ;  and,  in  a  special  manner, 
of  the  deep  and  wide-spread  prevalence  throughout  the 
world  of  Indian  opinion,  of  the  theory  and  power  of 
local  Manitos.  It  is  here  that  the  Indian  prophet, 
powwow,  or  jossakeed,  throws  off  his  mask,  and  the 
Indian  religionist  discloses  to  us  the  secrets  of  his  fasts 
and  dreams.  His  mind  completely  unbends  itself,  and 
the  man  lives  over,  in  imagination,  both  the  sweet  and 
the  bitter  scenes  of  a  hunter's  life.  To  him  the  clouds, 
which  chase  each  other,  in  brilliant  hues  and  constanly 
changing  forms,  in  the  heavens,  constitute  a  species 
of  wild  pictography,  which  he  can  interpret.  The 
phenomena  of  storms  and  meteorological  changes  con- 
nect themselves,  in  the  superstitious  mind,  with  some 
engrossing  mythos  or  symbol.  The  eagle,  the  kite,  and 
the  hawk,  who  fly  to  great  heights,  are  deemed  to  be 
conversant  with  the  aerial  powers,  who  are  believed  to 
have  an  influence  over  men,  and  hence  the  great  regard 
which  is  paid  to  the  flight  of  these  birds  in  their  war 
and  hieratic  songs. 

Fictitious  tales  of  imaginary  Indian  life,  and  poems 
on  the  aboriginal  model,  have  been  in  vogue  almost 
from  the  days  of  the  discovery.  But  what  has  been 
fancied  as  life  in  the  forest,  has  had  no  little  resemblance 
to  those  Utopian  schemes  of  government  and  happiness 
which  rather  denote  the  human  mind  run  mad,  than  sup- 
ply models  to  guide  judgment  or  please  philosophy.   In 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXI 


general,  these  attempts  have  held  up  high  principles  of 
thought  and  action  in  a  people,  against  truth,  observa- 
tion, and  common  sense.  High  heroic  action,  in  the 
Indian,  is  the  result  of  personal  education  in  endurance, 
supported  by  pride  of  character;  and  if  he  can  ever  be 
said  to  rejoice  in  suffering,  it  is  in  the  spirit  of  a  taunt 
to  his  enemy.  This  error  had  been  so  long  prevalent, 
that  when,  in  1839,  the  author  submitted  a  veritable 
collection  of  legends  and  myths  from  the  Indian  wig- 
wams, which  reflected  the  Indian  life  as  it  is,  it  was 
difficult,  and  almost  impossible,  to  excite  interest  in  the 
theme,  in  the  trade.  He  went  to  England  and  the 
continent,  in  hopes  of  better  success.  But,  although 
philanthropists  and  men  of  letters  and  science  appre- 
ciated the  subject,  as  historical  elements  in  the  history 
of  the  human  mind,  the  booksellers  of  London,  Paris, 
Leipsic,  and  Frankfort-on-the-Main,  to  whose  notice 
the  subject  was  brought,  exhibited  very  nearly  the  same 
nonchalant  tone ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  attractive 
poetic  form  in  which  one  of  our  most  popular  and  suc- 
cessful bards  has  clothed  some  of  these  wild  myths,  the 
period  of  their  reproduction  is  likely  to  have  been  still 
further  postponed. 

In  now  submitting  so  large  a  body  of  matter,  respect- 
ing the  mental  garniture  of  a  people  whose  fate  and 
fortunes  have  excited  so  much  interest,  the  surprise  is 
not  that  we  know  so  little  of  their  mental  traits,  but 
that,  with  so  little  research  and  inquiry,  we  should  know 
anything  at  all.  They  have  only  been  regarded  as  the 
geologist  regards  boulders,  being  not  only  out  of  place, 
but  with  not  half  the  sure  guides  and  principles  of  de 
tcrmining  where  they  came  from,  and  where  the  undis- 
turbed original  strata  remain.  The  wonder  is  not  that, 
as  boulder-tribes,  they  have  not  adopted  our  industry 


xxu 


INTRODUCTION. 


and  Christianity,  and  stoutly  resisted  civilization,  in  all 
its  phases,  but  that,  in  spite  of  such  vital  truths,  held 
up  by  all  the  Colonies  and  States,  and  by  every  family 
of  thera,  they  have  not  long  since  died  out  and  become 
extinguished.  No  English  colony  could  live  three  or 
four  centuries,  in  any  isolated  part  of  the  world,  without 
the  plough,  the  school-book,  and  the  Bible;  it  would 
die  out,  of  idleness  and  ignorance.  If  one  century  has 
kicked  the  Indian  in  America  harder  than  another,  it  is 
because  the  kicks  of  labor,  art,  and  knowledge  are 
always  the  hardest,  and  in  the  precise  proportion  to  the 
contiguity  of  the  object. 

By  obtaining — what  these  legends  give — a  sight  of 
the  inner  man,  we  are  better  able  to  set  a  just  estimate 
on  his  character,  and  to  tell  what  means  of  treatment 
are  best  suited  for  his  reclamation.  That  forbearance, 
kindness,  and  teaching  are  best  adapted  to  the  object, 
there  is  no  doubt.  We  are  counselled  to  forgive  an 
erring  brother  seventy  and  seven  times.  If,  as  some 
maintain,  wrongfully,  we  believe,  the  Indian  is  not,  in  a 
genealogical  sense,  of  the  same  stock,  yet  is  he  not,  in 
a  moral  sense,  a  brother?  If  the  knowledge  of  his 
story-telling  faculty  has  had  any  tendency  to  correct  the 
evils  of  false  popular  opinion  respecting  him,  it  has 
been  to  show  that  the  man  talks  and  laughs  like  the 
rest  of  the  human  family ;  that  it  is  fear  that  makes  him 
suspicious,  and  ignorance  superstitious;  that  he  is  him- 
self the  dupe  of  an  artful  forest  priesthood;  and  that 
his  cruelty  and  sanguinary  fury  are  the  effects  of  false 
notions  of  fame,  honor,  and  glory.  He  is  always,  and 
at  all  times  and  places,  under  the  strong  influence  of 
hopes  and  fears,  true  or  false,  by  which  he  is  carried  for- 
ward in  the  changing  scenes  of  war  and  peace.  Kind- 
ness never  fails  to  soften  and  meliorate  his  feelings, 


-% 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXIII 


and  harshness,  injury,  and  contempt  to  harden  and 
blunt  them.  Above  all,  it  is  shown  that,  in  the  recesses 
of  the  forest,  he  devotes  a  portion  of  his  time  to  do- 
mestic and  social  enjoyment,  in  which  the  leading  fea- 
ture is  the  relation  of  traditionary  legends  and  tales. 
Heroes  and  heroines,  giants  and  dwarfs,  spirits,  Mone- 
tos  or  local  gods,  demons,  and  deities  pass  in  review. 
It  is  chiefly  by  their  misadventures  and  violations  of  the 
Indian  theories,  that  the  laugh  is  sought  to  be  raised. 
The  dramatis  personcB  are  true  transcripts  of  Indian 
life ;  they  never  rise  above  it,  or  express  a  sentiment  or 
opinion  which  is  not  true  to  Indian  society;  nor  do 
they  employ  words  which  are  not  known  to  their  vo- 
cabulary. It  is  in  these  legends  that  we  obtain  their 
true  views  of  life  and  death,  their  religion,  their  theory 
of  the  state  of  the  dead,  their  mythology,  their  cos- 
mogony, their  notions  of  astrology,  and  often  of  their 
biography  and  history — for  the  boundaries  between 
history  and  fiction  are  vaguely  defined.  These  stories 
are  often  told,  in  seasons  of  great  severity  in  the  depth 
of  the  winter,  to  an  eagerly  listening  group,  to  while 
away  the  hour,  and  divert  attention  from  the  pressing 
claims  of  hunger.  Under  such  circumstances  to  dole 
away  time  which  has  no  value  to  him,  and  to  cheat 
hunger  and  want,  is  esteemed  a  trait  of  philosophy. 
If  there  is  a  morsel  to  eat  in  the  lodge,  it  is  given  to 
the  children.  The  women  imitate  this  stoicism  and 
devotion  of  the  men.  Not  a  tone  in  the  narration  tells 
of  dismay  in  their  domestic  circumstances,  not  an  eye 
acknowledges  the  influence  of  grief.  Tell  me  whether 
the  dignity  of  this  position  is  not  worthy  of  remem- 
brance. The  man,  it  may  be,  shall  pass  away  from  the 
earth,  but  these  tributes  to  the  best  feelings  of  the  heart 
w  ill  remain,  while  these  simple  tales  and  legendary  crca- 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


tions  constitute  a  new  point  of  character  by  whicu  he 
shonld  be  judged.  They  are,  at  least,  calculated  to 
modify  our  views  of  the  man,  who  is  not  always  a  savage, 
not  always  a  fiend. 


i 


i 


1 


II I A  ^y  A  T II A 


OR, 


MANABOZHO. 


iM 


The  myth  of  the  Indians  of  a  remarkable  pcrsonaj^e, 
who  is  called  Manabozho  by  the  Algonquins,  and  Hia- 
watha by  the  Iroquois,  who  was  tlie  instructor  of  the 
tribes  in  arts  and  knowledge,  was  first  related  to  me  in 
1822,  by  the  Chippewas  of  Lake  Superior.  lie  is  re- 
garded as  the  messenger  of  the  Great  Spirit,  sent  down 
to  them  in  the  character  of  a  wise  man,  and  a  prophet. 
But  he  comes  clothed  with  all  the  attributes  of  hu- 
manity, as  well  as  the  power  of  performing  miracu- 
lous deeds.  lie  adapts  himself  perfectly  to  their  man- 
ners, and  customs,  and  ideas,  lie  is  brought  up  from 
a  child  among  them,  lie  is  made  to  learn  their  mode 
of  life.  He  takes  a  wife,  builds  a  lodge,  hunts  and 
fishes  like  the  rest  of  them,  sings  his  war  songs  and 
medicine  songs,  goes  to  war,  has  his  triumphs,  Ims  his 
friends  and  foes,  sulTers,  wants,  hungers,  is  in  dread  or 
joy — and,  in  fine,  undergoes  all  the  vicissitudes  of  his 
fellows.     His  miraculous  gifts  and  powers  are  always 


Il     Sk 


'ii»>j  <■  I iii  1 1  I  lyp      luiii^iiHi  anuii  i| HI  ..   i|ijjp^p||qr' 


U!  < 


14 


HIAWATHA 


} 


\  ! 


I    ! 


If 


.  il! 


adapted  to  his  situation.  When  he  is  swallowed  by  a 
great  fish,  with  his  canoe,  he  escapes  by  the  exertion 
of  these  powers,  but  always,  as  much  as  possible,  in 
accordance  with  Indian  maxims  and  means.  He  is 
provided  with  a  magic  canoe,  which  goes  where  it  is 
bid;  yet,  in  his  fight  with  the  great  wampum  prince, 
he  is  counselled  by  a  woodpecker  to  know  where  the 
vulnerable  point  of  his  antagonist  lies.  He  rids  the 
earth  of  monsters  and  giants,  and  clears  away  wind- 
falls, and  obstructions  to  the  navigation  of  streams. 
But  he  does  not  do  these  feats  by  miracles;  he  employs 
strong  men  to  help  him.  When  he  means  to  destroy 
the  great  serpents,  he  changes  himself  into  an  old  tree, 
and  stands  on  the  beach  till  they  come  out  of  the 
water  to  bask  in  the  sun.  Whatever  man  could  do,  in 
strength  or  wisdom,  he  could  do.  But  he  never  does 
things  above  the  comprehension  or  belief  of  his  people ; 
and  whatever  else  he  is,  he  is  always  true  to  the  cha- 
racter of  an  Indian. 

This  myth  is  one  of  the  most  general  in  the  Indian 
country.  It  is  the  prime  legend  of  their  mythology. 
He  is  talked  of  in  every  winter  lodge — for  the  winter 
season  is  the  only  time  devoted  to  such  narrations. 
The  moment  the  leaves  come  out,  stories  cease  in  the 
lodge.  The  revival  of  spring  in  the  botanical  world 
opens,  as  it  were,  so  many  eyes  and  ears  to  listen  to  the 
tales  of  men  ;  and  the  Indian  is  far  too  shrewd  a  man, 
and  too  firm  a  believer  in  the  system  of  invisible  spirits 
by  which  he  is  f.nrrounded,  to  commit  himself  by  say- 
ing a  word  which  they,  with  their  acute  senses  on  the 
opening  of  the  spring,  can  l)e  offended  at. 

He  leaps  over  extensive  regions  of  country  like 
an  ignis  fatuus.  He  appears  suddenly  like  an  avater, 
or  saunters  over   weary  wastes  a  poor  and  starving 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


15 


lowed  by  a 
he  exertion 
possible,  in 
ns.     He   is 
where  it  is 
um  prince, 
where  the 
[e  rids  the 
I  way  wind- 
er streams, 
he  employs 
to  destroy 
n  old  tree, 
out  of  the 
3uld  do,  in 
neyer  does 
lis  people; 
p  the  cha- 

he  Indian 
lythology. 
he  winter 
arrations. 
se  in  the 
cal  world 
en  to  the 
'd  a  man, 
le  spirits 
by  sny- 
s  on  the 

itry  like 
avater, 
Istnrving 


fm 


hunter.  His  voice  is  at  one  moment  deep  and  so- 
norous as  a  thunder-clap,  and  at  another  clothed 
with  the  softness  of  feminine  supplication.  Scarcely 
any  two  persons  agree  in  all  the  minor  circum- 
stances of  the  story,  and  scarcely  any  omit  the 
leading  traits.  The  several  tribes  who  speak  dialects 
of  the  mother  language  from  which  the  narration  is 
taken,  diifer,  in  like  manner,  from  each  other  in  the 
particulars  of  his  exploits.  His  birth  and  parentage 
are  mysterious.  Story  says  his  grandmother  was  the 
daughter  of  the  moon.  Having  been  married  but  a 
short  time,  her  rival  attracted  her  to  p  grape-vine 
swing  on  the  banks  of  a  lake,  and  by  one  bold  e.xcrtion 
pitched  her  into  its  centre,  from  which  she  fell  through 
to  the  earth.  Having  a  daughter,  the  fruit  of  her 
lunar  marriage,  she  was  very  careful  in  instructing  her, 
from  early  infancy,  to  beware  of  the  west  wind,  and 
never,  in  stooping,  to  expose  herself  to  its  influence. 
In  some  unguarded  moment  this  j)recaution  was  neg- 
lected. In  an  instant,  the  gale  accomplished  its  Tar- 
quinic  purpose. 

Yery  little  is  told  of  his  early  boyhood.  We  take 
him  up  in  the  following  legend  at  a  period  of  advanced 
youth,  when  we  find  him  living  with  his  grandmother. 
And  at  this  time  he  possessed,  althotigh  he  had  not  yet 
exercised,  all  the  anomalous  and  contradictory  powers 
of  body  and  mind,  of  mauship  and  divinity,  which  he 
afterward  evinced.  The  timidity  and  rawness  of  the 
boy  (juickiy  gave  way  in  the  courageous  developments 
of  the  man.  He  soon  evinced  the  sagacity,  cunning, 
perseverance,  and  heroic  courage  which  constitute  the 
admiration  of  the  Indians.  And  he  relied  largely 
upon  these  in  the  gratification  of  an  ambitious,  vain- 
glorious, and  mischief-loving  disposition.     In  wisdom 


16 


HIAWATHA; 


a 


■  1 


K^ 


and  enerp^y  he  was  superior  to  any  one  who  had  ever 
lived  before.  Yet  he  was  simple  when  circumstances 
required  it,  and  was  ever  the  object  of  tricks  and  ridi- 
cule in  others.  He  could  transform  himself  into  any 
animal  he  pleased,  being  man  or  manito,  as  cireura- 
stances  rendered  necessary.  He  often  conversed  with 
animals,  fowls,  reptiles,  and  fishes.  He  deemed  him- 
self related  to  them,  and  invariably  addressed  them  by 
the  term  "ray  brother;"  and  one  of  his  greatest  re- 
sources, when  hard  pressed,  was  to  change  himself  into 
their  shapes. 

Manitoes  constitute  the  great  power  and  absorbing 
topic  of  Indian  lore.  Their  agency  is  at  once  the 
groundwork  of  their  mythology  and  deraonology. 
They  supply  the  machinery  of  their  poetic  inventions, 
and  the  belief  in  their  multitudinous  existence  exerts 
a  powerful  influence  upon  the  lives  and  character  of 
individuals.  As  their  manitoes  are  of  all  imaginary 
kinds,  grades,  and  powers,  benign  and  malicious,  it 
seems  a  grand  conception  among  the  Indians  to  create 
a  personage  strong  enough  in  his  necromantic  and 
spiritual  powers  to  baffle  the  most  malicious,  beat  the 
stoutest,  and  overreach  the  most  cunning.  In  carry- 
ing out  this  conception  in  the  following  myth,  they 
have,  however,  rather  exhibited  an  incarnation  of  the 
power  of  Evil  than  of  the  genius  of  Benevolence. 

Manabozho  was  living  with  his  grandmother  near 
the  edge  of  a  wide  prairie.  On  this  prairie  he  first  saw 
animals  and  birds  of  every  kind.  He  there  also  saw 
exhibitions  of  divine  power  in  the  sweeping  tempests, 
in  the  thunder  and  lightning,  and  the  various  shades  of 
light  and  darkness,  which  form  a  never-ending  scene  of 
observation.  Every  new  sight  he  beheld  in  the  heavens 
was  a  subject  of  remark ;  every  new  animal  or  bird 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


It 


0  had  ever 
rcumstanees 
vs  and  ridi- 
If  into  any 
as  circura- 
versed  with 
jeraed  him- 
jd  them  by 
rreatest  re- 
limself  into 

i  absorbing 
t  once  the 
enionology. 
inventions, 
?nce  exerts 
haraeter  of 
imaginary 
alieious,  it 
s  to  create 
antic   and 
,  beat  the 
In  carry- 
nyth,  they 
lion  of  the 
lence. 
ther  near 
|e  first  saw 
also  saw 
Itempcsts, 
shades  of 
scene  of 
heavens 
or  bird 


I 


an  ol)ject  of  deep  interest;  and  every  sound  uttered  by 
the  animal  creation  a  new  lesson,  which  he  was  expected 
to  learn.  He  often  trembled  at  what  he  heard  and 
saw.  To  this  scene  liis  grandmother  sent  him  at  an  early 
age  to  watch.  The  first  sound  he  heard  was  that  of  the 
owl,  at  which  he  was  greatly  terrified,  and,  quickly  de- 
scending the  tree  he  had  climbed,  he  ran  with  alarm  to 
the  lodge.  "  Xoko  !  Noko  !"*  he  cried,  "  I  have  heard 
a  mouedo."  She  laughed  at  his  fears,  and  asked  him 
what  kind  of  a  noise  it  made.  He  answered,  "It 
makes  a  noise  like  this  :  Ko-ko-ko-ho."  She  told  him 
that  he  was  young  and  foolish  ;  that  what  he  had 
heard  was  only  a  bird,  deriving  its  name  from  the  noise 
it  made. 

He  went  back  and  continued  his  watch.  While 
there,  he  thought  to  himself,  "  It  is  singular  that  I  am 
so  simple,  and  my  grandmother  so  wise,  and  that  I 
have  neither  father  nor  mother.  I  have  never  heard  a 
word  about  them.  I  must  ask  and  find  out."  He 
went  home  and  sat  down  silent  and  dejected.  At  length 
his  grandmother  asked  him,  "Manabozho,  what  is  the 
matter  witii  you  ?"  He  answered,  "  I  wish  you  would 
tell  me  whether  I  have  any  parents  living,  and  who  my 
relatives  are."  Knowing  that  he  was  of  a  wicked  and 
revengeful  disposition,  she  dreaded  telling  him  the  story 
of  his  parentage,  but  he  insisted  on  her  compliance. 
"  Yes,"  she  said,  "you  have  a  father  and  three  brothers 
living.  Your  mother  is  dead.  She  was  taken  without 
the  consent  of  her  parents  by  your  father  the  West. 
Your  brothers  are  the  North,  East,  and  South,  and, 
being  older  than  yourself,  your  father  has  given  them 


*  An  Jibhrt'viated  term  fur  "  my  grandiuotlu'r,"  derived  from 

O-l: 


>  ; 


: 


^iL 


18 


JIIAAVATIIA  ; 


great  power  with  the  winds,  according  to  their  names. 
You  are  the  youngest  of  his  children.  I  have  nou- 
rished you  from  your  infancy,  for  your  mother  died  in 
giving  you  birth,  owing  to  the  ill  treatment  of  your 
father.  I  have  no  relations  besides  you  this  side  of  the 
planet  in  which  I  was  born,  and  from  which  I  was  pre- 
cipitated by  female  jealousy.  Your  mother  >vas  my 
only  child,  and  you  are  my  only  hope." 

lie  appeared  to  be  rejoiced  to  hear  that  his  father 
was  living,  for  he  had  already  thought  in  his  heart  to 
try  and  kill  him.  He  told  his  grandmother  he  should 
set  out  in  the  morning  to  visit  him.  She  said  it  was  a 
long  distance  to  the  place  where  Ningabiun*  lived. 
But  that  had  no  effect  to  stop  him,  for  he  had  now 
attained  manhood,  possessed  a  giant's  height,  and  was 
endowed  by  nature  with  a  giant's  strength  and  power. 
He  set  out  and  soon  reached  the  place,  for  every  step 
he  took  covered  a  large  surface  of  ground.  The  meet- 
ing took  place  on  a  high  mountain  in  the  West.  His 
father  was  very  happy  to  see  him.  He  also  appeared 
pleased.  They  spent  some  days  in  talking  with  each 
other.  One  evening  Manabozho  asked  his  father  what 
he  was  most  afraid  of  on  earth.  He  replied,  "  No- 
thing." "  ]Jut  is  there  not  something  you  dread  here? 
tell  me."  At  last  his  father  said,  yielding,  "Yes,  there 
is  a  black  stone  found  in  such  a  place.-  It  is  the  only 
thing  earthly  I  am  afraid  of;  for  if  it  should  hit  me  or 
any  part  of  my  body,  it  would  injure  me  very  much." 
He  said  this  as  a  secret,  and  in  return  asked  hrs  son 
the  same  question.  Knowing  each  other's  power, 
although  the  son's  was  limited,  the  father  feared  him 

*  Tliia  is  a  torm  for  tho  wostwind.     It  is  a  dorivative  from 
Kaliian-ooiit/,  tlw  proper  appellation  for  tlie  ofcitk'nt. 


OR,  MANABOZOllO. 


H) 


leir  names. 

have  nou- 

ler  died  in 

nt  of  your 

side  of  the 

I  was  pre- 

BF  was  my 

his  father 

lis  heart  to 

r  he  should 

id  it  was  a 

un*  lived. 

e  had  now 

it,  and  was 

ind  power. 

every  step 

The  meet- 

►''est.     His 

appeared 

with  each 

ther  what 

ed,  "  No- 

ead  here? 

es,  there 

the  only 

hit  me  or 

y  much." 

|1  hrs  son 

power, 

ired  him 

Itivo  from 


on  account  of  his  great  strength.  Manabozho  an- 
swered, "  Nothing  I"  intending  to  avoid  the  question, 
or  to  refer  to  some  harmless  object  as  the  one  of  which 
he  was  afraid.  He  was  asked  again  and  again,  and 
answered,  "  Nothing !"  But  the  West  said,  "  There 
must  be  something  you  are  afraid  of."  "AVell  I  I  will 
tell  you,"  says  Manabozho,  "  what  it  is."  But,  before 
he  would  pronounce  the  word,  he  affected  great  dread, 
"/e-ee — le-ee — it  is — it  is,"  said  he,  "  yeo  1  yeo  !*  I 
cannot  name  it;  I  am  seized  with  a  dread."  The  West 
told  him  to  banish  his  fears.  He  commenced  again,  in 
a  strain  of  mock  sensitiveness  repeating  the  same 
words ;  at  last  he  cried  out,  "It  is  the  root  of  the 
apukway-\  He  appeared  to  be  exhausted  by  the  effort 
of  pronouncing  the  word,  in  all  this  skilfully  acting  a 
studied  part. 

Some  time  after  he  observed,  "  I  will  get  some  of 
the  black  rock."  The  West  said,  "Far  be  it  from 
you ;  do  not  do  so,  my  son."  He  still  persisted. 
"  Well,"  said  the  father,  "I  will  also  get  the  apukwa 
root."  Manabozho  immediately  cried  out,  ^*  Kago ! 
Kago  .^"1  atfecting,  as  before,  to  be  in  great  dread  of  it, 
but  really  wishing,  by  this  course,  to  urge  on  the  West 
to  procure  it,  that  he  might  draw  him  into  combat. 
He  went  out  and  got  a  large  piece  of  the  black  rock, 
and  brought  it  home.  The  West  also  took  care  to 
bring  the  dreaded  root. 

In  the  course  of  conversation  he  asked  his  father 
whether  he  had  been  the  cause  of  his  mother's  death. 
The  answer  was  "Yes!"    He  then  took  up  the  rock 

*  An  interjection  indicating  pain. 
t  '^'li*'  scirpns,  or  bulrush, 
\  Do  not — do  Hut, 


20 


HIAWATHA ; 


? 


r  jj 


and  struck  him.  Blow  led  to  blow,  and  here  com- 
menced an  obstinate  and  furious  combat,  which  con- 
tinued several  days.  Fragments  of  the  rock,  broken 
off  under  Manabozho's  blows,  can  be  seen  in  various 
places  to  this  day."*  The  root  did  not  prove  as 
mortal  a  weapon  as  his  well-acted  fears  had  led  his 
father  to  expect,  although  he  suffered  severely  from 
the  blows.  This  battle  commenced  on  the  mountains. 
The  West  was  forced  to  give  ground.  Manabozho 
drove  him  across  rivers,  and  over  mountains  and 
lakes,  and  at  last  he  came  to  the  brink  of  this  world. 

"  Hold!"  cried  he,  "  my  son;  you  know  my  power, 
and  that  it  is  impossible  to  kill  me.  Desist,  and  I  will 
also  portion  you  out  with  as  much  power  as  your  bro- 
thers. The  four  quarters  of  the  globe  are  already  oc- 
cupied ;  but  you  can  go  and  do  a  great  deal  of  good 
to  the  people  of  this  earth,  which  is  infested  with  large 
serpents,  beasts,  and  monsters,  f  who  make  great  havoc 

*  The  Northern  Indians,  when  travelling  in  company  with 
each  other,  or  with  white  persons  who  possess  their  confidence, 
so  as  to  put  them  at  ease,  are  in  the  habit  of  making  frequent 
allusions  to  Manabozho  and  his  exploits.  ''There,"  said  a 
young  Chippewa,  pointing  to  some  huge  boulders  of  green- 
stone, "  are  pieces  of  the  rock  broken  off  in  Manabozho's  combat 
M'ith  his  father."  " This  is  the  duck,"  said  an  Indian  inter- 
preter on  the  sources  of  the  Mississippi,  **  that  Manabozho 
kicked."  "  Under  that  island,"  said  a  friend  conversant  with 
their  language, "  under  that  island  Manabozho  lost  a  beaver." 

t  The  term  weendigo,  translated  here  monster,  is  commonly 
applied,  at  this  time,  by  the  Indians,  to  cannibals.  Its  ancient 
use  appears,  however,  to  have  embraced  giants  and  anoma- 
lous voracious  beasts  of  the  land,  to  the  former  existence  of 
which,  on  this  Continent,  their  traditions  refer. 

Tlie  word  genilbik,  renJered  serpent,  appears  likewise  to 


oil,  MANABOZriO. 


21 


lere  com- 
lich  con- 
f,  broken 
in  various 
prove  as 
d  led  his 
rely  from 
lountains. 
anabozlio 
ains  and 
world, 
ly  power, 
and  I  will 
your  bro- 
1  ready  oc- 
1  of  good 
*vith  large 
eat  havoc 

pany  with 
jonfidence, 
g  frequent 
i?,"  said  a 
of  green- 
o's  combat 
ian  inter- 
anabozho 
sant  with 
beavei'." 
ommonly 
Its  ancient 
anoma- 
stence  of 


.i-,% 


among  the  inhabitants.  Go  and  do  good.  You  have 
the  power  now  to  do  so,  and  your  fame  with  the  beings 
of  this  earth  will  last  forever.  When  yon  have  finisi. 
your  work,  I  will  have  a  place  provided  for  you.  You 
will  then  go  and  sit  with  your  brother  Kabibboonocca 
in  the  north." 

Manabozho  was  pacified.  lie  returned  to  his  lodge, 
where  he  was  confined  by  the  wounds  he  had  received. 
But  from  his  grandmother's  skill  in  medicines  he  was 
soon  recovered.  She  told  him  that  his  grandfather, 
who  had  come  to  the  earth  in  search  of  her,  had  been 
killed  by  Megissogwon,*  who  lived  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  great  lake.  "  When  he  was  alive,"  she 
continued,  "  I  was  never  without  oil  to  put  on  my  head, 
but  now  my  hair  is  fast  falling  off  for  the  want  of  it." 
"Well!"  said  he,  "Noko,  get  cedar  bark  and  make 
me  a  line,  whilst  I  make  a  canoe."  When  all  was 
ready,  he  went  out  to  the  middle  of  the  lake  to  fish. 
He  put  his  line  down,  saying,  "  Me-she-nah-raa-gwai 
(the  name  of  the  kingfish),  take  hold  of  my  bait."  He 
kept  repeating  this  for  some  time.  At  last  the  king  of 
the  fishes  said,  "  Manabozho  troubles  me.  Here, 
Trout,  take  hold  of  his  line."  The  trout  did  so.  He 
then  commenced  drawing  up  his  line,  which  was  very 
heavy,  so  that  his  canoe  stood  nearly  perpendicular  ; 
but  he  kept  crying  out,  "  Wha-ee-he  I  wha-ee-he  !"  till 
he  could  see  the  trout.  As  soon  as  he  saw  him,  he 
spoke  to  him.     "  Why  did  you  take  hold  of  my  hook  ? 

have  been  used  in  a  generic  sense  for  amphibious  animals  of 
hirgo  and  venomous  character.  When  applied  to  existing 
species  of  serpents,  it  requires  an  adjective  prefix  or  qualifying 
term. 

*  The  wampum  or  pearl  feather. 


22 


HIAWATHA ; 


; 


Esa  !  esa!*  you  ugly  fish."    The  trout,  being  thus  re- 
buked, let  go. 

Manabozho  put  liis  line  again  in  the  water,  saying, 
**  King  of  fishes,  take  hold  of  my  line."  But  the  king 
of  the  fishes  told  a  monstrous  sunfish  to  take  hold  of 
it ;  for  Manabozho  was  tiring  him  with  his  incessant 
calls.  He  again  drew  up  his  line  with  difficulty,  say- 
ing as  before,  ''Wha-ee-he!  wha-ee-he  I"  while  his 
canoe  was  turning  in  swift  circles.  When  he  saw  the 
sunfish,  he  cried,  "  Esa  I  esa  !  you  odious  fish  I  why 
did  you  dirty  my  hook  by  taking  it  in  your  mouth  ? 
Let  go,  I  say,  let  go."  The  sunfish  did  so,  and  told 
the  king  of  fishes  what  Manabozho  said.  Just  at  that 
moment  the  bait  came  near  the  king,  and  hearing 
Manabozho  continually  crying  out,  "  Me-she  nah-ma- 
gwai,  take  hold  of  my  hook,"  at  last  he  did  so,  and  al- 
lowed himself  to  be  drawn  up  to  the  surface,  which  he 
had  no  sooner  reached  than,  at  one  mouthful,  he  took 
Manabozho  and  his  canoe  down.  When  he  came  to 
himself,  he  found  that  he  was  in  the  fish's  belly,  and 
also  his  canoe.  lie  now  turned  his  thoughts  to  tl  3  way 
of  making  his  escape.  Looking  in  his  canoe,  he  saw  his 
war-club,  with  which  he  immediately  struck  the  heart 
of  the  fish.  He  then  felt  a  sudden  motion,  as  if  he 
were  moving  with  great  velocity.  The  fish  observed 
to  the  others,  "  I  am  sick  at  stomach  for  having  swal- 
lowed this  dirty  fellow  Manabozho."  Just  at  this 
moment  he  received  another  severe  blow  on  the  heart. 
Manabozho  thought,  "  If  I  am  thrown  u[)  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  lake,  I  shall  be  drowned  ;  so  I  must  pre- 
vent it."  lie  drew  his  canoe  and  placed  it  across  the 
fish's  throat,  and  just  as  he  had  finished  the  fish  cora- 

*  An  interjoctiou  equivalent  to  bhame  !  shauie ! 


OR,  MANABOZIIO. 


'n» 


pre- 

ts  the 
com- 


mencofl  vomiting,  but  to  no  effect.  In  this  he  was 
aided  by  a  squirrel,  who  had  accompanied  him  unper- 
ceivcd  until  that  moment.  This  animal  had  taken  an 
active  part  in  helping  hira  to  place  his  canoe  across 
the  fish's  throat.  For  this  act  he  named  him,  saying, 
"  For  the  future,  boys  shall  always  call  you  Aji- 
daumo."* 

He  then  renewed  his  attack  upon  the  fish's  heart, 
and  succeeded,  by  repeated  blows,  in  killing  him, 
which  he  first  knew  by  the  loss  of  motion,  and  by  the 
sound  of  the  beating  of  the  body  against  the  shore. 
He  waited  a  day  longer  to  see  what  would  happen. 
He  heard  birds  scratching  on  the  body,  and  all  at  once 
the  rays  of  light  broke  in.  He  could  see  the  heads  of 
gulls,  who  were  looking  in  by  the  opening  they  had 
made.  "Oh!"  cried  Manabozho,  "my  younger  bro- 
thers, make  the  opening  larger,  so  that  1  can  get  out." 
They  told  each  other  that  their  brother  Manabozho 
was  inside  of  the  fish.  They  immediately  set  about 
enlarging  the  orifice,  and  in  a  short  time  liberated 
hira.  After  he  got  out  he  said  to  the  gulls,  "  For  the 
future  you  shall  be  called  Kayoshkf  for  your  kindness 
to  me." 

The  spot  where  the  fish  happened  to  be  driven  ashore 
was  near  his  lodge.  He  went  up  and  told  his  grand- 
mother to  go  and  prepare  as  much  oil  as  she  wanted. 
All  besides,  he  informed  her,  he  should  keep  for  himself. 

Some  time  after  this,  he  commenced  making  prepa- 
rations for  a  war  excursion  against  the  Pearl  Feather, 
the  Manito   who   lived   on   the  opposite   side   of  the 

*  Animal  tail,  or  bottom  npAvanl. 

t  A  five  translation  of  this  expre.ssion  might  he  rcndored, 
noble  scratchers,  or  grabbers. 


24 


HIAWATHA ; 


f 


great  lake,  wlio  had  killed  his  p^randfatlier.  The  abode 
of  this  spirit  was  defended,  first,  by  fiery  serpents, 
who  hissed  fire  so  that  no  one  could  pass  them;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  by  a  large  mass  of  gummy  matter 
lying  on  the  water,  so  soft  and  adhesive,  that  whoever 
attempted  to  pass,  or  whatever  came  in  contact  with 
it,  was  sure  to  stick  there. 

He  continued  making  bows  and  arrows  without  num- 
ber, but  he  had  no  heads  for  his  arrows.  At  last  Noko 
told  him  that  an  old  man  who  lived  at  some  distance 
could  make  them.  He  sent  her  to  get  some.  She  soon 
returned  with  her  conaus  or  wrapper  full.*  Still  he 
told  her  he  had  not  enough,  and  sent  her  again.  She 
returned  with  as  much  more.  He  thought  to  himself, 
*'  I  must  find  out  the  way  of  making  these  heads." 
Cunning  and  curiosity  prompted  him  to  make  the  dis- 
covery. But  he  deemed  it  necessary  to  deceive  his 
grandmother  in  so  doing.  "  Noko,"  said  he,  "  while  I 
take  my  drum  and  rattle,  and  sing  ray  war  songs,  go 
anf^  try  to  get  me  some  larger  heads  for  my  arrows, 
for  those  you  brought  me  are  all  of  the  same  size.  Go 
and  see  whether  the  old  man  cannot  make  some  a  little 
larger."  He  followed  her  as  she  went,  keeping  at  a 
distance,  and  saw  the  old  artificer  at  work,  and  so  dis- 
covered his  process.  He  also  beheld  the  old  man's 
daughter,  and  perceived  that  she  was  very  beautiful. 
He  felt  his  breast  beat  with  a  new  emotion,  but  said 
nothing.     He  took  care  to  get  home  before  his  grand- 

*  The  conaus  is  the  most  ancient  garment  known  to  these 
tribes,  being  a  simple  extended  single  piece,  without  folds. 
Tlie  word  is  the  apjiarent  root  of  godaus,  a  female  garment. 
Waub-e-wion,  a  blanket,  is  a  comparatively  modern  phrase 
for  a  wrapper,  signifying,  literally,  a  white  skin  with  the  wool 
un. 


'& 


Oa,  MANABOZHO. 


26 


B  abode 
?rpcnts, 
and,  in 
matter 
whoever 
act  with 

lilt  num- 
st  Noko 
distance 
She  soon 
Still  he 
in.     She 
I  himself, 
heads." 
J  the  dis- 
3eive  his 
"while  I 
longs,  go 
f  arrows, 
ize.     Go 
le  a  little 
ling  at  a 
d  so  dis- 
Id  man's 
eautiful. 
but  said 
[is  grand- 


mother, and  commenced  singing  as  if  ho  had  never  left 
his  lodge.  When  the  old  woman  came  near,  she  heard 
his  drum  and  rattle,  without  any  suspicion  that  he  had 
followed  her.     She  delivered  him  the  arrow-heads. 

One  evening  the  old  woman  said,  "  My  son,  you 
ought  to  f<fst  before  you  go  to  war,  as  your  brothers 
frequently  do,  to  find  out  whether  you  will  be  successful 
or  not."*     He  said  he  had  no  objection,  and  immedi- 

*  Fasts.  Tlie  rite  of  fasting  is  one  of  the  most  deep-seated 
and  universal  in  the  Indian  ritual.  It  is  practised  among  all 
the  American  tribes,  and  is  deemed  by  them  essential  to  their 
success  in  life  in  every  situation.  No  young  man  is  fitted 
and  prepared  to  begin  tlie  career  of  life  until  he  has  accom- 
plished his  great  fast.  Seven  days  appear  to  have  been  the 
ancient  maximum  limit  of  endurance,  .and  the  success  of  the 
devotee  is  inferred  from  the  length  of  continued  abstinence 
to  which  he  is  known  to  have  attained.  These  fasts  are  an- 
ticipated by  youth  as  one  of  the  most  important  events  of 
life.  They  are  awaited  with  interest,  prepared  for  with  so- 
lemnity, and  endured  with  a  self-devotion  bordering  on  the 
heroic.  Character  is  thought  to  be  fixed  from  this  period,  and 
the  primary  fast,  thus  prepared  for  and  successfully  estab- 
lished, seems  to  hold  that  relative  imjwrtance  to  subsequent 
years  that  is  attached  to  a  public  profession  of  religious  faith 
in  civilized  communities.  It  is  at  this  period  that  the  young 
men  and  the  young  women  "  see  visions  and  dream  dreams," 
and  fortune  or  misfortune  is  predicted  from  the  guardian 
spirit  chosen  during  this,  to  them,  religious  ordeal.  The  hal- 
lucinations of  the  mind  are  taken  for  divine  inspiration.  The 
effect  is  deeply  felt  and  strongly  impressed  on  the  mind  ;  too 
deeply,  indeed,  to  be  ever  obliterated  in  after  life.  The  father 
in  the  circle  of  his  lodge,  the  hunter  in  the  pursuit  of  the 
chase,  and  the  warrior  in  the  field  of  battle,  think  of  the 
guardian  genius  which  they  fancy  to  accompany  them,  and 
trust  to  his  power  and  benign  influence  under  every  circum- 
stance. This  genius  is  the  absorbing  theme  of  their  silent 
meditations,  and  stands  to  them  in  all  respects  in  place  of 
3 


IIIAWATUA 


ately  commenced  a  fast  for  several  days.  He  would 
retire  every  day  from  the  lodge  so  far  as  to  be  out  of 
reach  of  his  grandmother's  voice.  It  seems  she  had 
indicated  this  spot,  and  was  very  anxious  he  should 
fast  there,  and  not  at  another  place.  She  had  a  secret 
motive,  which  she  carefully  hid  from  him.  Deception 
always  begets  suspicion.  After  a  while  he  thought  to 
himself,  "  I  must  find  out  why  my  grandmother  is  so 
anxious  for  me  to  fast  at  this  spot.''  Next  evening  he 
went  but  a  short  distance.  She  cried  out,  "A  little 
farther  off;"  but  he  came  nearer  to  the  lodge,  and  cried 
out  in  a  low,  counterfeited  voice,  to  make  it  appear 


the  Cliristian's  hope,  with  the  single  differonce  tliat,  however 
deeply  mused  upon,  the  name  is  never  uttered,  and  every 
circumstance  connected  with  its  selection,  and  the  devotion 
paid  to  it,  is  most  studiously  and  professedly  concealed  even 
from  their  nearest  friends. 

Fasts  in  subsequent  life  appear  to  have  for  their  ohject  a 
renewal  of  the  powers  and  virtues  wliich  they  attribute  to  the 
rite.  And  they  are  observed  more  frequently  by  those  who 
strive  to  preserve  unaltered  the  ancient  state  of  society  among 
them,  or  by  men  who  assume  austere  habits  for  the  purpose 
of  acquiring  inlluence  in  the  tribe,  or  as  preparatives  for  war 
or  some  extraordinary  feat.  It  is  not  known  that  there  is  any 
fixed  day  observed  as  a  general  fast.  So  far  as  a  rule  is 
followed,  a  general  fast  seems  to  have  been  observed  in  tlie 
spring,  and  to  have  preceded  the  general  and  customary  feasts 
at  that  season. 

It  will  be  inferred  from  these  facts,  that  the  Indians  helievo 
fasts  to  be  very  meritorious.  They  are  deemed  most  accejtt- 
nblo  to  the  Manitoes  or  spirits  whose  influence  and  protection 
tliey  wish  to  engage  or  preserve.  And  it  is  thus  clearly  do- 
ducible,  that  a  very  large  i)rnportion  of  the  time  devoted  by 
tlie  Indians  to  secret  worship,  so  to  say,  is  devoted  to  tlu'se 
guardian  or  intermediate  si)irits,  and  not  to  the  CJreat  Spirit 
or  Creator. 


OR,  MANABOZIIO. 


27 


[Tc  would 
be  out  of 
!  she  had 
be  should 
a  a  secret 
)eception 
lought  to 
ther  is  so 
vening  he 
"A  little 
and  cried 
it  appear 

it,  however 
and  every 
le  devotion 
sealed  oven 

nr  object  a 
bute  to  the 
those  who 
iety  among 
he  purpose 
ves  for  war 
lore  is  any 
a  rule  is 
•ved  in  the 
uary  feasts 


4 


that  he  was  distant.  She  then  replied,  "That  is  far 
enough."  He-  had  got  so  near  that  he  could  see  all 
that  passed  in  the  lodge.  .  lie  had  not  been  long  in  his 
l)lace  of  concealment,  when  a  paramour  in  the  shape 
of  a  bear  entered  the  loJge.  lie  had  very  long  hair. 
They  commenced  talking  about  him,  and  appeared  to 
be  improperly  familiar.  At  that  time  people  lived  to  a 
very  great  age,  and  he  perceived,  from  the  marked  at- 
tentions of  this  visitor,  that  he  did  not  think  a  grand- 
mother too  old  to  be  pleased  with  such  attentions. 
lie  listened  to  their  conversation  some  time.  At  last 
he  determined  to  i)lay  the  visitor  a  trick.  He  took 
some  fire,  and  when  the  bear  had  turned  his  back, 
touched  his  long  hair.  When  the  animal  felt  the  flame, 
he  jumped  out,  but  the  open  air  only  made  it  burn  the 
fiercer,  and  he  was  seen  running  off  in  a  full  blaze. 

Manabozho  ran  to  his  customary  place  of  fasting, 
and  assuming  a  tone  of  simplicity,  began  to  cry  out, 
"Xoko!  Nokol  is  it  time  for  me  to  come  home?" 
"  Yes,"  she  cried.  When  he  came  in  she  told  him 
what  had  taken  i)lace,  at  which  he  appeared  to  be  very 
much  surprised. 

After  having  finished  his  term  of  fasting  and  sung 
his  war-song — from  which  the  Indians  of  the  present 
day  derive  the  custom — he  embarked  in  his  canoe,  fully 

jments. 


])re[)ari 


'1> 


he  had  a  plentiful  supply  of  oil.  He  travelled  rapidly 
night  and  day,  for  he  had  only  to  will  or  s|)eak,  and 
the  canoe  went.  At  length  he  arrived  in  sight  of  the 
fiery  serpents.  He  stopped  to  view  tiiem.  He  saw 
they  were  some  distance  apart,  and  that  the  fiame  only 
whi<'h  issued  froju  them  reached  across  the  pass.  He 
commenced  talking  as  a  friend  to  them;  but  they 
answered,   "  Wo  know  you,   Munabozho,  you  cannot 


$ 


28 


HIAWATHA ; 


: 


!   ; 


>> 


pass."  He  then  thought  of  some  expedient  to  deceive 
them,  and  hit  upon  this.  He  pushed  his  canoe  as  near 
as  possible.  All  at  once  he  cried  out,  with  a  loud  and 
terrified  voice,  "What  is  that  behind  you?"  The 
serpents  instantly  turned  their  heads,  when,  at  a  single 
word,  he  passed  them.  "Weill"  said  he,  placidly, 
after  he  had  got  by,  "  how  do  you  like  my  exploit  ?" 
He  then  took  up  his  bow  and  arrows,  and  with  delib- 
erate aim  shot  them,  which  was  easily  done,  for  the 
serpents  were  stationary,  and  could  not  move  beyond 
a  certain  spot.  They  were  of  enormous  length  and  of 
a  bright  color. 

Having  overcome  the  sentinel  serpents,  he  went  on 
in  his  magic  canoe  till  he  came  to  a  soft  gummy  por- 
tion of  the  lake,  called  Pigiu-wagumee  or  Pitchvvater. 
He  took  the  oil  and  rubbed  it  on  his  canoe,  and  then 
pushed  into  it.  The  oil  softened  the  surface  and 
enabled  him  to  slip  through  it  with  ease,  although  it 
required  frequent  rubbing,  and  a  constant  reapplication 
of  the  oil.  Just  as  his  oil  failed,  he  extricated  himself 
from  this  impediment,  and  was  the  first  person  who  ever 
succeeded  in  overcoming  it. 

He  now  came  in  view  of  land,  on  which  he  debarked 
in  safety,  and  could  see  the  lodge  of  the  Shining 
Manito,  situated  on  a  hill.  He  commenced  preparing 
for  the  fight,  putting  his  arrows  and  clubs  in  order,  and 
just  at  the  dawn  of  day  begun  his  attack,  yelling  and 
shouting,  and  crying  with  triple  voices,  "  Surround 
himl  surround  him  I  runup!  run  up  1"  making  it  ap- 
pear that  he  had  many  followers.  He  advanced  crying 
out,  "  It  was  you  that  killed  my  grandfather,"  and  with 
this  shot  his  arrows.  The  combat  continued  all  day. 
Manabozho's  arrows  had  no  effect,  for  his  antagonist 
was  clothed  with  pure  wampum.     He  was  now  reduced 


OR,  MANABOZIIO. 


29 


deceive 
as  near 
)ud  and 
'  The 
a  single 
)lacidly, 
:ploit  ?" 
h  delib- 
for  the 
beyond 
h  and  of 

went  on 
imy  por- 
uhvvater. 
xnd  then 
ace  and 
hough  it 
lication 
himself 
ho  ever 


barked 
Shining 
reparing 
der,  and 
ing  and 
urround 
i;  it  ap- 
d  crying 
[ind  with 

all  day. 
t  agonist 

reduced 


to  three  arrows,  and  it  was  only  by  extraordinary  agility 
that  he  could  escape  the  blows  which  the  Manito  kept 
making  at  him.  At  that  moment  a  large  woodpecker 
(the  ma-ma)  flew  past,  and  lit  on  a  tree.  "Mana- 
bozho,"  he  cried,  "your  adversary  has  a  vulnerable 
point;  shoot  at  the  lock  of  hair  on  the  crown  of  his 
head."  lie  shot  his  first  arrow  so  as  only  to  draw 
blood  from  that  part.  The  Manito  made  one  or  two 
unsteady  steps,  but  recovered  himself.  He  began  to 
parley,  but,  in  the  act,  received  a  second  arrow,  which 
brought  him  to  his  knees.  But  he  again  recovered. 
In  so  doing,  however,  he  exposed  his  head,  and  gave 
his  adversary  a  chance  to  fire  his  third  arrow,  which 
penetrated  deep,  and  brought  him  a  lifeless  corpse  to 
the  ground.  Manabozho  uttered  his  saw-saw-quan, 
and  taking  his  scalp  as  a  trophy,  he  called  the  wood- 
pecker to  come  and  receive  a  reward  for  his  informa- 
tion. He  took  the  blood  of  the  Manito  and  rubbed  it 
on  the  woodpecker's*  head,  the  feathers  of  which  are 
red  to  this  day. 

After  this  victory  he  returned  home,  singing  songs 
of  triumph  and  beating  his  drum.  When  his  grand- 
mother heard  him,  she  came  to  the  shore  and  welcomed 
him  with  songs  and  dancing.  Glory  fired  his  mind. 
He  displayed  the  trophies  he  had  brought  in  the  most 
conspicuous  manner,  and  felt  an  unconquerable  desire 
for  other  adventures.  He  felt  himself  urged  by  the 
consciousness  of  his  i)ower  to  new  trials  of  bravery, 
skill,  and  necromantic  prowess.  He  had  destroyed  the 
Manito   of  Wealth,  and  killed  his  guardian  serpents, 

*  The  tuft  feathers  of  tho  r«Ml-lu'ailotl  woodpeckor  nre  nao«l 
to  oniaiiu'nt  tho  stcma  of  thu  liuliau  jiipo,  and  are  syniholiciil 


of  valur. 


3* 


1! 

H! 

i 


k  I 


< ! 


80 


HIAWATHA ; 


and  eluded  all  his  charms.  lie  did  not  long  remain 
inactive.  His  next  adventure  was  upon  the  water,  and 
proved  him  the  prince  of  fishermen.  He  captured  a 
fish  of  such  monstrous  size,  that  the  fat  and  oil  he  ob- 
tained from  it  formed  a  small  lake.  He  therefore  in- 
vited all  the  animals  and  fowls  to  a  banquet,  and  he 
made  the  order  in  which  they  partook  of  this  repast 
the  measure  of  their  fatness.  As  fast  as  they  arrived,  he 
told  them  to  plunge  in.  The  bear  came  first,  and  was 
followed  by  the  deer,  opossum,  and  such  other  animals 
as  are  noted  for  their  peculiar  fatness  at  certain  seasons. 
The  moose  and  bison  came  tardily.  The  partridge 
looked  on  till  the  reservoir  w^as  nearly  exhausted.  The 
hare  and  marten  came  last,  and  these  animals  have, 
consequently,  no  fat.  When  this  ceremony  was  over, 
he  told  the  assembled  animals  and  birds  to  dance, 
taking  up  his  drum  and  crying,  "New  songs  from  the 
south,  come,  brothers,  dance."  He  directed  them  to 
pass  in  a  circle  around  him,  and  to  shut  their  eyes. 
They  did  so.  When  he  saw  a  fat  fowl  pass  by  him,  he 
adroitly  wrung  off  its  head,  at  the  same  time  beating 
his  drum  and  singing  with  greater  vehemence,  to  drown 
the  noise  of  the  fluttering,  and  crying  out,  in  a  tone  of 
admiration,  "  That's  the  way,  ray  brothers,  thaVs  the 
way."  At  last  a  small  duck  (the  diver),  thinking  there 
was  something  wrong,  opened  one  eye  and  saw  what  he 
was  doing.  Giving  a  spring,  and  crying  "Ha-ha-al 
Manabozho  is  killing  us,"  he  made  for  the  water. 
Manabozho  followed  him,  and,  just  as  the  duck  was 
getting  into  the  water,  gave  him  a  kick,  which  is  the 
cause  of  his  back  being  flattened  and  his  legs  being 
straightened  out  backward,  so  that  when  he  gets  on 
land  he  cannot  walk,  and  his  tail   feathers  are  few. 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


31 


;  remain 
iter,  and 
ptured  a 
•il  he  ob- 
-efore  in- 
t,  and  he 
lis  repast 
rrived,  he 
and  was 
r  animals 
1  seasons, 
partridge 
ed.     The 
als  have, 
was  over, 
to  dance, 
}  from  the 
I  them  to 
eir  eyes. 
|y  him,  he 
e  beating 
to  drown 
a  tone  of 
haVs  the 
ing  there 
what  he 
|Ha-ha-a  I 
e   water, 
lick  was 
ch  is  the 
^gs  being 
gets  on 
are  few. 


Meantime  the  other  birds  flew  off,  and  the  animals  ran 
into  the  woods. 

After  this  Manabozho  set  out  to  travel.  He  wished 
to  outdo  all  others,  and  to  see  new  countries.  But 
after  walking  over  America  and  encountering  many 
adventures,  he  became  satisfied  as  well  as  fatigued.  He 
had  heard  of  great  feats  in  hunting,  and  felt  a  desire  to 
try  his  power  in  that  way.  One  evening,  as  he  was 
walking  along  the  shores  of  a  great  lake,  weary  and 
hungry,  he  encountered  a  great  magician  in  the  form  of 
an  old  wolf,  with  six  young  ones,  coming  towards  him. 
The  wolf,  as  soon  as  he  saw  hira,  told  his  whelps  to  keep 
out  of  the  way  of  Manabozho,  "for  I  know,"  continued 
he,  •'  that  it  is  him  that  we  see  yonder."  The  young 
wolves  were  in  the  act  of  running  ofif,  when  Manabozho 
cried  out,  "My  grandchildren,  where  are  you  going  ? 
Stop,  and  I  will  go  with  you."  He  appeared  rejoiced 
to  see  the  old  wolf,  and  asked  him  whither  he  was  jour- 
neying. Being  told  that  they  were  looking  out  for  a 
place,  where  they  could  find  most  game,  to  pass  the 
winter,  he  said  he  should  like  to  go  with  them,  and  ad- 
dressed the  old  wolf  in  the  following  words  :  "Bro- 
ther, I  have  a  passion  for  the  chase  ;  are  you  willing  to 
change  me  into  a  wolf  ?"  He  was  answered  favora- 
bly, and  his  transformation  immediately  effected. 

Manabozho  was  fond  of  novelty.  He  found  himself 
a  wolf  corresponding  in  size  with  the  others,  but  he 
was  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  change,  crying  out, 
"Oh,  make  me  a  little  larger."  They  did  so.  "A 
little  larger  still,"  he  exclaimed.  They  said,  "Let  us 
humor  him,"  and  granted  his  request.  "  Well,"  said 
he,  "  that  will  do."  He  looked  at  his  tail.  "  Oh  1" 
cried  he,  "  do  make  my  tail  a  little  longer  and  more 


; 


i. 


32 


IIIAWATUA 


bushy."  They  did  so.  They  then  all  started  oflf  ia 
company,  dashing  up  a  ravine.  After  getting  into  the 
woods  some  distance,  they  fell  in  with  the  tracks  of 
moose.  The  young  ones  went  after  them,  Manabozho 
and  the  old  wolf  following  at  their  leisure.  "  Well," 
said  the  wolf,  "  who  do  you  think  is  the  fastest  of  the 
boys  ?  can  you  tell  by  the  jumps  they  take  ?"  "  Why," 
he  replied,  '*  tlmt  one  that  takes  such  long  jumps,  he  is 
the  fastest,  to  be  sure."  "  Ha  I  ha  I  you  are  mistaken," 
said  the  old  wolf.  "  He  makes  a  good  start,  but  he 
will  be  the  first  to  tire  out ;  this  one,  who  appears  to 
be  behind,  will  be  the  one  to  kill  the  game."  They 
then  came  to  the  place  vvhere  the  boys  had  started  in 
chase.  One  had  dropped  his  small  bundle.  "Take 
that,  Manabozho,"  said  the  old  wolf.  "Esa,"he  re- 
plied, "  what  will  I  do  with  a  dirty  dogskin  ?"  The 
wolf  took  it  up  ;  it  was  a  beautiful  robe.  "  Oh,  I  will 
carry  it  now,"  said  Manabozho.  "  Oh  no,"  replied  the 
wolf,  who  at  the  moment  exerted  his  magic  power;  "it 
is  a  robe  of  pearls  I"  And  from  this  moment  he  omit- 
ted no  occasion  to  display  his  superiority,  both  in  the 
hunter's  and  magician's  art,  above  his  conceited  com- 
panion. Coming  to  a  place  where  the  moose  had  lain 
down,  they  saw  that  the  young  wolves  had  made  a  fresh 
start  after  their  prey.  "  Why,"  said  the  wolf,  "  this 
moose  is  poor.  I  know  by  the  tracks,  for  I  can  always 
tell  whether  they  are  fat  or  not."  They  next  came  to 
a  place  where  one  of  the  wolves  had  bit  at  the  moose, 
and  had  broken  one  of  his  teeth  on  a  tree.  "  Mana- 
bozho," said  the  wolf,  "  one  of  your  grandchildren  has 
shot  at  the  game.  Take  his  arrow;  there  it  is."  "No," 
he  replied  ;  '*  what  will  I  do  with  a  dirty  dog's  tooth!" 
The  old  man  took  it  up,  and  behold  I  it  was  a  beautiful 
silver  arrow.      When    they  overtook  the  youngsters, 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


33 


off  in 
nto  the 
acks  of 
labozlio 
'  Well," 
:  of  the 
Why," 
)s,  he  is 
itaken," 
but  he 
)ears  to 
They 
irted  in 
"  Take 
"  he  re- 
'"    The 
h,  I  will 
klied  the 
^er;  "it 
le  orait- 
h  in  the 
jd  com- 
lad  lain 
!  a  fresh 
"  this 
always 
came  to 
moose, 
Mana- 
ren  has 
"No," 
tooth!" 
cautiful 
iigstci's, 


they  had  killed  a  very  fat  moose.  Manabozho  was 
very  hungry  ;  but,  alas  I  such  is  the  power  of  enchant- 
ment, he  saw  nothing  but  the  bones  picked  quite  clean. 
He  thought  to  himself,  "Just  as  I  expected,  dirty, 
greedy  fellows  I"  However,  he  sat  down  without  saying 
a  word.  At  length  the  old  wolf  spoke  to  one  of  the 
young  ones,  saying,  "  Give  some  meat  to  your  grand- 
father." "One  of  them  obeyed,  and,  coming  near  to 
Manabozho,  opened  his  mouth  as  if  he  was  about  to 
vomit.  He  jumped  up,  saying,  "You  filthy  dog,  you 
have  eaten  so  much  that  your  stomach  refuses  to  hold 
it.  Get  you  gone  into  some  other  place."  The  old 
wolf,  hearing  the  abuse,  went  a  little  to  one  side  to  see, 
and  behold,  a  heap  of  fresh  ruddy  meat,  with  the  fat, 
lying  all  ready  prepared.  He  was  followed  by  Mana- 
bozho, who,  having  the  enchantment  instantly  removed, 
put  on  a  smiling  face.  "Amazement  I"  said  he  ;  "how 
fine  the  meat  is."  "Yes,"  replied  the  wolf;  "it  is 
always  so  with  us  ;  we  know  our  work,  and  always  get 
the  best.  It  is  not  a  long  tail  that  makes  a  hunter." 
Manabozho  bit  his  lip. 

They  then  commenced  fixing  their  winter  quarters, 
while  the  youngsters  went  out  in  search  of  game,  and 
soon  brought  in  a  large  supply.  One  day,  during  the 
absence  of  the  young  wolves,  the  old  one  amused  him- 
self in  cracking  the  large  bones  of  a  moose.  "  Mana- 
bozho," said  he,  "cover  your  head  with  the  robe,  and 
do  not  look  at  me  while  I  am  at  these  bones,  for  a 
piece  may  fly  in  your  eye."  He  did  as  he  was  told ; 
but,  looking  through  a  rent  that  was  in  the  robe,  he 
saw  what  the  other  was  about.  Just  at  that  moment 
a  piece  flew  off  and  hit  him  on  the  eye.  He  cried  out, 
"Tyau,  why  do  you  strike  me,  you  old  dog?"  The 
wolf  said,  "  You  must  have  been  looking  at  me."    But 


i% 


B>   ! 


34 


HIAWATHA ; 


deception  commonly  leads  to  falsehood.  "  No,  no," 
he  said,  "  why  should  I  want  to  look  at  you  ?"  "  Mana- 
bozho,"  said  the  wolf,  "  you  tniist  have  been  looking,  or 
you  would  not  have  got  hurt."  "  No,  no,"  he  replied 
again,  "  I  was  not.  I  will  repay  the  saucy  wolf  this," 
thought  he  to  himself.  So,  next  day,  taking  up  a  bone 
to  obtain  the  marrow,  he  said  to  the  wolf,  "  Cover 
your  head  and  don't  look  at  me,  for  I  fear  a  piece  may 
''y  in  your  eye."  The  wolf  did  so.  He  then  took  the 
leg-bone  of  the  moose,  and  looking  first  to  see  if  the 
wolf  was  well  covered,  he  hit  him  a  blow  with  all  his 
might.  The  wolf  jumped  up,  cried  out,  and  fell  pros- 
trate from  the  effects  of  the  blow."  "  Why,"  said  he, 
"  do  you  strike  me  so  ?"  "  Strike  you  I"  he  replied  ; 
"no,  you  must  have  been  looking  at  me."  "No," 
answered  the  wolf,  "  I  say  I  have  not."  But  he  per- 
sisted in  the  assertion,  and  the  poor  magician  had  to 
give  up. 

Manabozho  was  an  expert  hunter  when  he  earnestly 
undertook  it.  He  went  out  one  day  and  killed  a  fat 
moose.  He  was  very  hungry,  and  sat  down  to  eat. 
But  immediately  he  fell  into  great  doubts  as  to  the 
proper  point  to  begin.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "I  do  not 
know  where  to  commence.  At  the  head  ?  No  I  Peo- 
ple will  laugh,  and  say  'he  ate  him  backward.'"  He 
went  to  the  side.  "  No  I"  said  he,  "  they  will  say  I  ate 
sideways."  He  then  went  to  the  hind-quarter.  "No  I" 
said  he,  "they  will  say  I  ate  him  forward.  I  will  com- 
mence here,  say  what  they  will."  He  took  ii  d£licate 
piece  from  the  rump,  and  was  just  ready  to  put  it  in 
his  mouth,  when  a  tree  close  by  made  a  creaking  noise, 
caused  by  the  rubbing  of  one  large  branch  against 
another.  This  annoyed  him.  "  Why  I"  he  exclaimed, 
"  I  cannot  cat  when  I  hear  such  a  noise.     Stop  1  stop  I" 


OR,  MANABOZIIO. 


35 


No,  no," 
"Mana- 
)oking,  or 
le  replied 
olf  this," 
lip  a  bone 
,  "  Cover 
)iece  may 
I  took  the 
see  if  the 
th  all  his 
fell  pros- 
"  said  he, 
I  replied ; 
'  "  No," 
t  he  per- 
an  had  to 

earnestly 
lied  a  fat 
n  to  eat. 
as  to  the 
do  not 
0 1     Peo- 

'"  He 
say  I  ate 

"Nol" 
will  com- 

d£licate 
put  it  in 
ng  noise, 
1  against 
"cclaimed, 
)  I  stop  I" 


said  he  to  the  tree.  lie  was  putting  the  morsel  again 
to  his  mouth,  when  the  noise  was  repeated.  lie  put  it 
down,  exclaiming,  "  I  cannot  eat  with  such  a  noise;" 
and  immediately  left  the  m^  \,  although  very  hungry, 
to  go  and  put  a  stop  to  the  noise.  He  climbed  the 
tree  and  was  pulling  at  the  limb,  when  his  arm  was 
caught  between  the  two  branches  so  that  he  could  not 
extricate  himself.  "While  thus  held  fast,  he  saw  a  pack 
of  wolves  coming  in  the  direction  towards  his  meat. 
"  Go  that  way!  go  that  way!"  he  cried  out;  "what 
would  you  come  to  get  here?"  The  wolves  talked 
among  themselves  and  said,  "  Manabozho  must  have 
something  there,  or  he  would  not  tell  us  to  go  another 
way."  "  I  begin  to  know  him,"  said  an  old  wolf,  "  and 
all  his  tricks.  Let  us  go  forward  and  see."  They 
came  on,  and  finding  the  moose,  soon  made  way  with 
the  whole  carcass.  Manabozho  looked  on  wishfully  to 
see  them  eat  till  they  were  fully  satisfied,  and  they  left 
him  nothing  but  the  bare  bones.  The  next  heavy 
blast  of  wind  opened  the  branches  and  liberated  him. 
He  went  home,  thinking  to  himself,  "  See  the  effect  of 
meddling  with  frivolous  things  when  I  had  certain  good 
in  my  possession." 

Next  day  the  old  wolf  addressed  hira  thus :  "  My 
brother,  I  am  going  to  separate  from  you,  but  I  will 
leave  behind  me  one  of  the  young  wolves  to  be  your 
hunter."  He  then  departed.  In  the  act  Manabozho 
was  disenchanted,  and  again  resumed  his  mortal  shape. 
He  was  sorrowful  and  dejected,  but  soon  resumed  his 
wonted  air  of  cheerfulness.  The  young  wolf  who  was 
left  with  him  was  a  good  hunter,  and  never  failed  to 
keep  the  lodge  well  supplied  with  meat.  One  day  he 
addressed  him  as  follows  :  "My  grandson,  I  had  a  dream 
last  night,  and  it  does  not  portend  good.     It  is  of  the 


#-?* 


.1 

i  J 


? 


lii'u 


36 


HIAWATHA : 


large  lake  which  lies  in  that  direction  (pointing).  You 
must  be  careful  never  to  cross  it,  even  if  the  ice  should 
appear  good.  If  you  should  come  to  it  at  night  weary 
or  hungry,  you  must  make  the  circuit  of  it."  Spring 
commenced,  and  the  snow  was  melting  fast  before  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  when  one  evening  the  wolf  came  to  this 
lake,  weary  with  the  day's  chase.  He  disliked  to  go  so 
far  to  make  the  circuit  of  it.  "  Hwooh  I"  he  exclaimed, 
"there  can  be  no  great  harm  in  trying  the  ice,  as  it 
appears  to  be  sound.  Nesho*  is  over  cautious  on  this 
point."  But  he  had  not  got  half  way  across  when 
the  ice  gave  way  and  he  fell  in,  and  was  immediately 
seized  by  the  serpents,  who  knew  it  was  Manabozho's 
grandson,  and  were  thirsting  for  revenge  upon  him. 
Manabozho  sat  pensively  in  his  lodge. 

Night  came  on,  but  no  son  returned.  The  second 
and  third  night  passed,  but  he  did  not  appear.  He 
became  very  desolate  and  sorrowful.  "Ahl"saidhe, 
"he  must  have  disobeyed  me,  and  has  lost  his  life  in 
that  lake  I  told  him  of.  Well  I"  said  he  at  last,  "  I 
must  mourn  for  him."  So  he  took  coal  and  blackened 
his  face.  But  he  was  much  perplexed  as  to  the  right 
mode.  "I  wonder,"  said  he,  "how  I  must  do  it?  I 
will  cry  '  Oh  1  my  grandson  I  Oh  1  my  grandson'!'" 
He  burst  out  a  laughing.  "  No  1  no  I  that  won't  do. 
I  will  try  so — 'Oh  I  my  heart  1  Oh!  my  heart!  ha! 
ha  !  ha!'  That  won't  do  either.  I  will  cry,  *0h  my 
grandson  ohiquadjP  "-j-  This  satisfied  him,  and  he  re- 
mained in  his  lodge  and  fasted,  till  his  days  of  mourn- 

*  Abbreviated  from  Neslioiniss,  my  grandfather. 

f  That  part  of  the  intestines  of  a  fish,  which  by  its  ex- 
pansion from  air  in  the  ♦irst  stage  of  decomposition,  canses 
the  body  to  rise  and  float.     The  expression  here  means  float. 


'I 


L 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


37 


g).  You 
ice  should 
ght  weary 
'  Spring 
before  the 
ime  to  this 
d  to  go  so 
jxclaimed, 
e  ice,  as  it 
us  on  this 
ross  when 
iinediately 
mabozho's 
ipon  him. 

he  second 

pear.     He 

1"  said  he, 

his  life  in 

it  last,  "  I 

blackened 

the  right 

do  it  ?     I 

mdson'I' " 

won't  do. 

eart  I  ha  1 

,  '  Oh  my 

md  he  re- 

of  mourn- 


ing were  over 


:.i^ 


"  Now,"  said  he,  "I  will  go  in  search 
of  hira."  He  set  out  and  travelled  some  time.  At 
last  he  came  to  a  great  lake.  lie  then  raised  the  same 
cries  of  lamentation  for  his  grandson  which  had  pleased 
him.  He  sat  down  near  a  small  brook  that  emptied 
itself  into  the  lake,  and  repeated  his  cries.  Soon  a 
bird  called  Ke-ske-mun-i-see^  came  near  to  him.  The 
bird  inquired,  "  What  are  you  doing  here  ?"  "  No- 
thing," he  replied ;  "but  can  you  tell  me  whether  any 
one  lives  in  this  lake,  and  what  brings  you  here  your- 
self?" "Yes I"  responded  the  bird;  "the  Prince  of 
Serpents  lives  here,  and  I  am  watching  to  see  whether 
the  obiquadj  of  Manabozho's  grandson  will  not  drift 
ashore,  for  he  was  killed  by  the  serpents  last  spring, 
liut  are  you  not  Manabozho  himself ?"  "No,"  he 
answered,  with  his  usual  deceit ;  "how  do  you  think  he 
could  get  to  this  place  ?  But  tell  me,  do  the  serpents 
ever  appear  ?  when  ?  and  where  ?  Tell  me  all  about 
their  habits."  "  Do  you  see  that  beautiful  white  sandy 
beach  ?"  said  the  bird.  "Yes  I"  he  answered.  "  It  is 
there,"  continued  the  Kingfisher,  "  that  they  bask  in 
the  sun.  Before  they  come  out,  the  lake  will  appear 
perfectly  calm  ;  not  even  a  ripple  will  appear.  After 
midday  (na-wi-qua)  you  VfiW  see  them." 

"Thank  you,"  he  replied ;  "lam  Manabozho  him- 
self. I  have  come  in  search  of  the  body  of  my  son, 
and  to  seek  my  revenge.  Come  near  me  that  I  may 
put  a  medal  round  your  neck  as  a  reward  for  your  in- 
formation." The  bird  unsuspectingly  came  near,  and 
received  a  white  medal,  which  can  be  seen  to  this  day.f 


by  its  ex- 
on,  causes 
Leans  float. 


*  The  Alcedo  or  Kingfisher. 

t  This  hird  has  a  wliitc  spot  ou  the  breast,  and  a  tufted 
head. 


f 


Hi 


1 1 


i 


Li 


I 


38 


HIAWATHA ; 


While  bestowing  the  medal,  he  attempted  slyly  to  wring 
the  bird's  head  off,  but  it  escaped  him,  with  only  a 
disturbance  of  the  crown  featliers  of  its  head,  which 
are  rumpled  backward.  lie  had  found  out  all  he 
wanted  to  know,  and  then  desired  to  conceal  the  know- 
ledge of  his  purposes  by  killing  his  informant. 

He  went  to  the  sandy  beach  indicated,  and  trans- 
formed himself  into  an  oak  stump.  He  had  not  been 
there  long  before  he  saw  the  lake  perfectly  calm.  Soon 
hundreds  of  monstrous  serpents  came  crawling  on  the 
beach.  One  of  the  number  was  beautifully  white.  He 
was  the  prince.  The  others  were  red  and  yellow. 
The  prince  spoke  to  those  about  hira  as  follows :  "I 
never  saw  that  black  stump  standing  there  before.  It 
may  be  Manabozho.  There  is  no  knowing  but  he  may 
be  somewhere  about  here.  He  has  the  power  of  an 
evil  genius,  and  we  should  be  on  our  guard  against  his 
wiles."  One  of  the  large  serpents  immediately  went 
and  twisted  himself  around  it  to  the  top,  and  pressed 
it  very  hard.  The  greatest  pressure  happened  to  be 
on  his  throat ;  he  was  just  ready  to  cry  out  when  the 
serpent  let  go.  Eight  of  them  went  in  succession  and 
did  the  like,  but  always  let  go  at  the  moment  he  was 
ready  to  cry  out.  "It  cannot  be  him,"  they  said. 
"  He  is  too  great  a  weak-heart*  for  that."  They  then 
coiled  themselves  in  a  circle  about  their  .prince.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  they  fell  asleep.  When  they 
did  so,  Manabozho  took  his  bow  and  arrows,  and  cau- 
tiously stepping  over  the  serpents  till  he  came  to  the 
prince,  drew  up  his  arrow  with  the  full  strength  of  his 
arm,  and  shot  him  in  the  left  side.  He  then  gave  a 
saw-savv-quan,f  and  ran  off  at  full  speed.     The  sound 


*  Shau-go-dai-a,  i.  e.,  a  Coward. 


t  Tlie  war-cry. 


I* 


wring 
only  a 
which 
all  he 
know- 

trans- 
>t  been 
Soon 
on  the 
i.     lie 
yellow. 
\'&:  "I 
re.     It 
he  may 
r  of  an 
inst  his 
V  went 
pressed 
\  to  be 
en  the 
on  and 
le  was 
said. 
By  then 
ce.     It 
n  they 
id  can- 
to the 
of  his 
gave  a 
sound 

r-cry. 


SI 

0 


OR,  MANABOZnO. 


39 


1^ 


m 


::Ml 


nttered  by  the  snakes  on  seeinji;  their  prince  mortally 
wonndc'd,  was  horrible.  They  cried,  "  ^lanabozlio  has 
killed  our  prince;  go  in  chase  of  hiin."  ^Meantime  he 
ran  over  hill  and  valley,  to  gain  the  interior  of  tho 
country,  with  all  his  strength  and  s[)eed,  treading  a 
mile  at  a  step.  But  his  i)ursuers  were  also  spirits,  and 
he  could  hear  that  something  was  approaching  him 
fast.  He  made  for  the  highest  mountain,  and  climbed 
the  highest  tree  on  its  summit,  when,  dreadful  to  be- 
hold, the  whole  lower  country  was  seen  to  be  over- 
flowed, and  the  water  was  gaining  rai)idly  on  the  high 
lands.  He  saw  it  reach  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and 
at  length  it  came  up  to  the  foot  of  the  tree,  but  there 
was  no  abatement.  The  flood  rose  steadily  and  per- 
ceptibly. He  soon  felt  the  lower  part  of  his  ])ody  to 
V)e  immersed  in  it.  He  addressed  the  tree  :  "Grand- 
father, stretch  yourself."  The  tree  did  so.  But  the 
waters  still  rose.  He  repeated  his  request,  and  was 
again  obeyed.  He  asked  a  third  time,  and  was  again 
obeyed;  but  the  tree  replied,  "It  is  the  last  time ;  I 
cannot  get  any  higher."  The  waters  continued  to  rise 
till  they  reached  up  to  his  chin,  at  which  point  they 
stood,  and  soon  began  to  abate.  Hope  revived  in  his 
heart.  He  then  cast  his  eyes  around  the  illimitable 
expanse,  and  spied  a  loon.  "  Dive  down,  my  brother," 
he  said  to  him,  "and  fetch  up  some  earth,  so  that  I 
can  make  a  new  earth."  The  bird  obeyed,  but  rose  up 
to  the  surface  a  lifeless  form.  He  then  saw  a  muskrat. 
"  Dive!"  said  he,  "and  if  you  succeed,  you  may  here- 
after live  either  on  land  or  water,  as  you  please  ;  or  I 
will  give  you  a  chain  of  beautiful  little  lakes,  sur- 
rounded with  rushes,  to  inhabit."  He  dove  down,  but 
he  floated  up  senseless.  He  took  the  body  and  breathed 
in    his  nostrils,  which  restored  him  to  life.     "Try 


40 


HIAWATHA ; 


again, ^  said  he.  The  muskrat  did  so.  He  came  up 
senseless  the  second  time,  but  clutched  a  little  earth  in 
one  of  his  paws,  from  which,  together  with  the  carcass 
of  the  dead  loon,  he  created  a  new  earth  as  large  as 
the  former  had  been,  with  all  living  animals,  fowls,  and 
plants. 

As  he  was  walking  to  survey  the  new  earth,  he  heard 
some  one  singing.  lie  went  to  the  place,  and  found  a 
female  ppirit,  in  the  disguise  of  an  old  woman,  singing 
these  words,  and  crying  at  every  pause  : — 

"  Ma  nail  bo  slio,  0  do  zheem  un, 
Ogeem'  an  wiiii,  Onis''  sa  waun, 
Hee-Ub  bub  ub  bub  (crying). 

Dread  Mauabozbo  in  revenge, 

For  bis  grandson  lost — 

lias  killed  tlie  cliief — tbe  king." 

"Noko,"said  he,  "what  is  the  matter?"  "Matter  I" 
said  she,  "  where  have  you  been,  not  to  have  heard  how 
Manabozho  shot  my  son,  the  prince  of  serpents,  in 
revenge  for  the  loss  of  his  nephew,  and  how  the  earth 
was  overflowed,  and  created  anew  ?  So  I  brought  my 
son  here,  that  he  might  kill  and  destroy  the  inhabi- 
tants, as  he  did  on  the  former  earth.  But,"  she  con- 
tinued, casting  a  scrutinizing  glance,  "N'yau  1  indego 
Manabozho  I  hub  1  ub  1  ub  I  ub  1  Oh,  I  am  afraid  you 
are  Manabozho!"  lie  burst  out  into  a  laugh  to  quiet 
her  fears.  "  Ua  1  ha!  ha!  how  can  that  be?  Has 
noo  the  old  earth  perished,  and  all  that  was  in  it  ?" 
"Impossible!  impossible!"  "But,  Noko,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  what  do  you  intend  doing  with  all  that  cedar 
cord  on  your  back?"  "Why,"  said  she,  "I  am  Wx- 
ing  a  snare  for  Manabozho,  if  he  should  be  on  this 
earth  ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  I  am  looking  for  herbs 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


41 


to  heal  my  son.  I  am  the  only  person  that  can  do  him 
any  good.     lie  always  gets  better  when  I  sing — 

"  '  Manabozho  a  no  we  guawk, 

Koan  dan  niau  wah,  ne  we  guawk, 
Koan  f?.an  inau  wah,  ne  we  guawk.' 

It  is  Manabozlio's  dart, 
I  try  my  magic  power  to  withdraw." 

Having  found  out,  by  conversation  with  her,  all  he 
wished,  he  put  her  to  death.  lie  then  took  oflf  her 
skin,  and  assuming  this  disguise,  took  the  cedar  cord 
on  his  back,  and  limped  away  singing  her  songs.  He 
completely  aped  the  gait  and  voice  of  the  old  woman. 
He  was  met  by  one  who  told  him  to  make  haste  ;  that 
the  prince  was  worse.  At  the  lodge,  limping  and  mut- 
tering, he  took  notice  that  they  had  his  grandson's  hide 
to  hang  over  the  door.  "Oh  dogs!"  said  he ;  "the 
evil  dogs  I"  He  sat  down  near  the  door,  and  com- 
menced sobbing  like  an  aged  woman.  One  observed, 
"  Why  don't  you  attend  the  sick,  and  not  set  there  mak- 
ing such  a  noise  ?"  He  took  up  the  poker  and  laid  it 
on  them,  mimicking  ihe  voice  of  the  old  woman. 
"  Dogs  that  you  are  1  why  do  you  laugh  at  me  ?  You 
know  very  vvull  that  I  am  so  sorry  that  I  am  nearly  out 
of  my  head."  With  that  he  api)roached  the  prince, 
singing  the  songs  of  the  old  woman,  without  exciting 
any  suspicion.  He  saw  that  his  arrow  had  gone  in 
about  one  half  its  length.  He  pretended  to  make  pre- 
parations for  extracting  it,  but  only  m-ide  ready  to 
finish  his  victim ;  and  giving  the  dart  a  sudden  thrust, 
he  put  a  period  to  the  prince's  life.  He  performed 
this  act  with  ti»e  power  of  a  giant,  bursting  the  old 
woman's  skin,  and  at  the  same  moment  rushing  through 
the   door,   tl»o    serpents  following  him,   hissing  and 

4* 


H 


i 


42 


HIAWATHA ; 


crying  out,  "  Perfidy  I  murder  1  vengeance  1  it  is  Man- 
abozlio."  He  immediately  transformed  himself  into  a 
wolf,  and  ran  over  the  plain  with  all  his  speed,  aided 
by  his  father  the  West  Wind.  When  he  got  to  the 
mountains  he  saw  a  badger.  "Brother,"  said  he, 
"  make  a  hole  quick,  for  the  serpents  are  after  me." 
The  badger  obeyed.  They  both  went  in,  and  the 
})adger  threw  all  the  earth  backward,  so  that  it  filled  up 
the  wav  behind. 

The  serpents  came  to  the  badger's  wauzh,*  and  de- 
cided to  watch.  "  We  will  starve  him  out,"  said  they; 
so  they  continued  watching.  Manabozho  told  the 
badger  to  make  an  opening  on  the  other  side  of  the 
mountain,  from  which  he  could  go  out  and  hunt,  and 
bring  meat  in.  Thus  they  lived  some  time.  One  day 
the  badger  came  in  his  way  and  displeased  him.  He 
immediately  put  him  to  death,  and  threw  out  his  car- 
cass, saying,  **  I  don't  like  you  to  be  getting  in  my  way 
so  often." 

After  living  in  this  confinement  for  some  time  alone, 
he  decided  to  go  out.  He  immediately  did  so ;  and 
after  making  the  circuit  of  the  mountain,  came  to  the 
corpse  of  the  prince,  who  had  been  deserted  by  tlie  ser- 
pents to  pursue  his  destroyer.  He  went  to  work  and 
skinned  him.  He  then  drew  on  his  skin,  in  which  there 
were  great  virtues,  took  up  his  war-club,  and  set  out 
for  the  place  where  he  first  went  in  the  ground.  He 
found  the  serpents  still  watching.  When  they  saw  the 
form  of  their  dead  prince  advancing  towards  them,  fear 
and  dread  took  hold  of  them.  Some  fled.  Those  who 
remained  Manabozho  killed.  Those  who  fled  went 
towards  the  Soulh. 

*  A  1  111 r row. 


r' 


OR,  MANABOZIIO. 


43 


V 


alone, 

and ' 

o  the 

le  ser- 

k  and 

there 

t  out 

He 

iw  the 

n,  fear 

e  who 

went 


Ilavinj?  accomplished  the  victory  over  the  reptiles, 
Manabozho  returned  to  his  former  place  of  dwelling, 
and  married  the  arrow-maker's  daughter. 

After  Manabozho  had  killed  the  Prince  of  Serpents, 
he  was  living  in  a  state  of  great  want,  completely  de- 
serted by  his  powers,  as  a  deity,  and  not  able  to  procure 
the  ordinary  means  of  subsistence.  He  was  at  this  time 
living  with  his  wife  and  children,  in  a  remote  part  of 
the  country,  where  he  could  get  no  game.  He  was 
miserably  poor.  It  was  winter,  and  he  had  not  the 
common  Indian  comforts. 

He  said  to  his  wife,  one  day,  "I  will  go  out  a  walking, 
and  see  if  I  cannot  find  some  lodges."  After  walking 
some  time  he  saw  a  lodge  at  a  distance.  The  children 
were  playing  at  the  door.  When  they  saw  him  ap- 
proiOt  '.;  they  ran  into  the  lodge,  and  told  their 
parei  ,.  Vat  Manabozho  was  coming.  It  was  the 
residence  of  the  large  redheaded  Woodpecker.  He 
came  to  the  lodge  door  and  asked  him  to  enter.  He 
did  so.  After  some  time,  the  Woodpecker,  who  was  a 
magician,  said  to  his  wife,  "Have  you  nothing  to  give 
Manabozho  ?  he  must  be  hungry."  She  answered,  "No." 
In  the  centre  of  the  lodge  stood  a  large  white  tamarack- 
tree.  The  Woodpecker  flew  on  to  it,  and  commenced 
going  up,  turning  his  head  on  each  side  of  the  tree,  and 
every  now  and  then  driving  in  his  bill.  At  last  he  drew 
something  out  of  the  tree,  and  threw  it  down,  when, 
behold  I  a  fine,  fat  raccoon  on  the  ground.  He  drew 
out  six  or  seven  more.  He  then  descended,  and  told  his 
wife  to  prepare  them.  "Manabozho,"  he  said,  "this  is  the 
only  thing  we  eat.  What  else  can  we  give  you  ?"  "  It  is 
very  good,"  replied  Manabozho.  They  smoked  their  pipes 
and  conversed  with  each  other.  After  eating,  the  great 
Fpirit-chief  got  ready  to  go  home.     The  Woodpecker 


I 


Ml 


'i\ 


44 


HIAWATHA ; 


I 


ill 


f 


said  to  his  wife,  "Give  him  what  remains  of  the  raccoons 
to  take  home  for  his  children."  In  the  act  of  leaving  the 
lodge  he  dropped  intentionally  one  of  his  mittens,  which 
was  soon  after  observed.  "Run,"  said  theWoodpecker  to 
his  eldest  son,  "and  give  it  to  him.  But  don't  give  it  into 
his  hand ;  throw  it  at  him,  for  there  is  no  knowing  him, 
he  acts  so  curiously."  The  boy  did  as  he  was  bid. 
"Nemcsho"  (my  grandfather),  said  he,  as  he  came  up  to 
him,  "you  have  left  one  of  your  mittens — here  it  is." 
"  Yes,"  said  he,  affecting  to  be  ignorant  of  the  circum- 
stance, "it  is  so.  But  don't  throw  it,  you  will  soil  it  on 
the  snow."  The  lad,  however,  threw  it,  and  was  about 
to  return.  "  List, "said  Manabozho,  "is  that  all  you  eat — 
do  you  eat  nothingelse  with  the  raccoon?"  "No,"  replied 
theyoungWoodpecker.  "  Tell  yourfather,"  he  answered, 
"to  come  and  visit  me,  and  let  him  bring  a  sack.  I  will 
give  him  what  he  shall  eat  with  his  raccoon  meat." 
When  the  young  one  reported  this  to  his  father,  the 
old  man  turned  up  his  nose  at  the  invitation.  "  What 
does  the  old  fellow  think  he  has  got !"  exclaimed  he. 

Some  time  after  the  Woodpecker  went  to  pay  a  visit 
to  Manabozho.  He  was  received  with  the  usual  atten- 
tion. It  had  been  the  boast  of  Manabozho,  in  former 
days,  that  he  could  do  what  any  other  being  in  the 
creation  could,  whether  man  or  animals.  He  affected 
to  have  the  sagacity  of  all  animals,  to  understand  their 
language,  and  to  be  capable  of  exactly  imitating  it. 
And  in  his  visits  to  men,  it  was  his  custom  to  return, 
exactly,  the  treatment  he  had  received.  lie  was  very 
ceremonious  in  following  the  very  voice  and  manner  of 
his  entertainers.  The  Woodpecker  had  no  sooner 
entered  his  lodge,  therefore,  than  he  commenced  playing 
the  mimic.  He  had  previously  directed  his  wife  to 
change  his  lodge,  so  as  to  inclose  a  large  dry  tamarack- 


r' 


OB,  MANABOZIIO. 


45 


tree.  "What  can  I  give  you  ?"said  he  to  the  Woodpecker ; 
"but  as  we  eat,  so  shall  you  eat."  lie  then  put  a  long 
piece  of  bone  in  his  nose,  in  imitation  of  the  bill  of  this 
bird,  and  jumping  on  the  tamarack-tree,  attempted  to 
climb  it,  doing  as  he  had  seen  the  Woodpecker  do.  He 
turned  his  head  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the  other. 
He  made  awkward  efforts  to  ascend,  but  continually 
slipped  down.  He  struck  the  tree  with  the  bone  in 
his  nose,  until  at  last  he  drove  it  so  far  up  his  nostrils 
that  the  blood  began  to  flow,  and  he  fell  down  senseless 
at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  The  Woodpecker  started  after 
his  drum  and  rattle  to  restore  him,  and  having  got 
them,  succeeded  in  bringing  him  to.  As  soon  as  he 
came  to  his  senses,  he  began  to  lay  the  blame  of  his 
failure  to  his  wife,  saying  to  his  guest,  "Nemesho,  it  is 
this  woman  relation  of  yours — she  is  the  cause  of  my 
not  succeeding.  She  has  rendered  me  a  worthless  fel- 
low. Before  I  took  her  I  could  also  get  raccoons." 
The  Woodpecker  said  nothing,  but  flying  on  the  tree, 
drew  out  several  fine  raccoons.  "  Here,"  said  he,  "this 
is  the  way  ive  do,"  and  left  him  with  apparent  con- 
tempt. 

Severe  weather  continued,  and  Manabozho  still  suf- 
fered for  the  want  of  food.  One  day  he  walked  out, 
and  came  to  a  lodge,  which  was  occupied  by  the  Moose 
(M(3z).  The  young  Mozonsug*  saw  him  and  told  their 
father  Manabozho  was  at  the  door.  He  told  them  to 
invite  him  in.  Being  seated,  they  entered  into  conver- 
sation. At  last  the  Moose,  who  was  a  Meeta,  said, 
"  What  shall  we  give  Manabozho  to  eat  ?  We  have  no- 
thing." His  wife  was  seated  with  her  back  toward  him, 
making  garters.     He  walked  up  to  her,  and  untying 


1 


*  Diminutive  form,  plural  number,  of  the  noun  Miiz. 


i« 


46 


'  HIAWATHA; 


tlie  coveriiiQ^  of  the  armlet  from  lier  back,  cut  oflf  a  laro-e 
piece  of  flesh  from  tlie  stiiuire  of  her  slioulder.*  He 
then  put  some  medicine  on  it,  which  immediately  healed 
the  wound.  Tlie  skin  did  not  even  appear  to  have 
been  broken,  and  his  wife  was  so  little  affected  by  it, 
that  she  did  not  so  much  as  leave  off  her  work,  till  he 
told  her  to  prepare  the  flesh  for  eating.  "  Manabozho," 
said  he,  "this  is  all  we  eat,  and  it  is  all  we  can  give  you." 
After  they  had  finished  eating,  Manabozho  set  out 
for  home,  but  intentionally,  as  before,  dropped  one  of 
his  minjckawun,  or  mittens.  One  of  the  young  Moose 
took  it  to  him,  telling  him  that  his  father  had  sent  him 
with  it.  He  had  been  cautioned  not  to  hand  it  to  him, 
but  to  throw  it  at  him.  Having  done  so,  contrary  to 
the  remonstrance  of  Manabozho,  he  was  going  back, 
when  the  latter  cried  out,  "  Bakaii !  Bakaii  If    Is  that\ 

*  The  dress  of  tlie  females  in  the  Odjibwa  nation,  consists 
of  sleeves,  open  on  the  inner  side  of  the  arm  from  the  elbow 
up,  and  terminating  in  large  square  folds,  falling  from  the 
shoulders,  wliioh  are  tied  at  the  back  of  the  neck  with  ribbon 
or  binding.  The  sleeves  are  separately  made,  and  not  at- 
tached to  the  breast  garment,  wliich  consists  of  square  folds 
of  cloth,  ornamented  and  sustained  by  shoulder  straps.  To 
untie  the  sleeves  or  armlets,  as  is  here  described,  is  therefore 
to  expose  the  shoulders,  but  not  the  back — a  simple  device, 
quickly  accomplished,  by  which  the  magician  could  readily 
exercise  his  art  almost  imperceptibly  to  tlie  object. 

t  Btop!  stop! 

X  It  is  difficult  to  throw  into  the  English  pronoun  the  whole 
of  the  meaning  of  the  Indian.  Pronouns  in  this  language 
being,  like  other  parts  of  speech,  transitive  ;  they  are  at  once 
indicative  both  of  the  actor,  personal,  and  relative,  and  the 
nature  of  the  object,  or  subject  of  the  action,  or  relation. 
This,  and  that,  are  not  used  in  the  elementary  ioiwi  these 
pronouns  invariably  possess  in  the  English.     Inllections  are 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


4Y 


tlie  only  kind  of  meat  you  eat  ?  Tell  me."  "Yes,"  an- 
swered the  young  man,  "that  is  all;  we  have  nothing 
else."  "Tell  your  father,"  he  replied,  "to  come  and  visit 
me,  and  I  will  give  him  what  you  shall  eat  with  your 
meat."  The  old  Moose  listened  to  this  message  with 
indignity.  "  I  wonder  what  he  thinks  he  has  got,  poor 
fellow!" 

He  was  bound,  however,  to  obey  the  invitation,  and 
went  accordingly,  taking  along  a  cedar  sack,  for  he 
had  been  told  •  bi...  one.  Manabozl  >  i  jeived  him 
in  the  same  manner  he  nad  himself  been  received — re- 
peating the  same  remarks,  and  attempted  to  supply  the 
lack  of  food  in  the  same  manner.  To  this  end  he  had 
requested  his  wife  to  busy  herself  in  making  garters. 
He  arose  and  untied  the  covering  of  her  back  as  he 
had  seen  the  Moose  do.  He  then  cut  her  back  shock- 
ingly, paying  no  attention  to  her  cries  or  resistance, 
until  he  saw  her  fall  down,  from  the  loss  of  blood. 
"  Manabozho,"  said  the  Moose,  "  you  are  killing  your 
wife."  He  immediately  ran  for  his  drum  and  rattle,  and 
restored  her  to  life  by  his  skill.  He  had  no  sooner  done 
this  than  Manabozho  began  to  lay  the  blame  of  his  ill 
success  on  his  wife.  "Why,  Nemesho,"  said  he,  "  this 
woman,  this  relation  of  yours — she  is  making  me  a 
most  worthless  fellow.  Formerly,  I  procured  my  meat 
in  this  way.     But  now  I  can  accomplish  nothing." 

The  Moose  then  cut  large  pieces  of  flesh  off  his  own 
thighs,  without  the  least  injury  to  himself,  and  gave 
them  to  Manabozho,  saying,  with  a  contemptuous  air, 
"  This  is  the  way  ice  do."     He  then  left  the  lodge. 


n; 

ii 

■liif 


•it 


i 


put  to  them  indicating  the  class  of  natural  objects  to  which 
they  refer.  A  noun  masculine  or  feminine,  requiring  an  ani- 
mate pronoun,  a  noun  inanimate,  a  pronoun  inanimate. 


48 


HIAWATHA ; 


t 


After  these  visits  Manabozho  was  sitting  pensively 
in  his  lodge  one  day,  with  his  head  down.  lie  heard 
the  wind  whistling  around  it,  and  thought,  by  atten- 
tively listening,  he  could  hear  the  voice  of  some  one 
speaking  to  him.  It  seemed  to  say  to  him :  "  Great 
chief,  why  are  you  sorrowful  ?  Am  not  I  your  friend 
— your  guardian  Spirit?"  He  immediately  took  up  his 
rattle,  and  without  leaving  his  sitting  posture,  began 
to  sing  the  chant  which  at  the  close  of  every  stanza 
has  the  chorus  of  "Whaw  Lay  Le  Aw."  When  he 
had  devoted  a  long  time  to  this  chant,  he  laid  his  rattle 
aside,  and  determined  to  fast.  For  this  purpose  he 
went  to  a  cave,  and  built  a  very  small  fire,  near  which 
he  laid  down,  first  telling  his  wife  that  neither  she  nor 
the  children  must  come  near  him  till  he  had  finished 
his  fast.  At  the  end  of  seven  days  he  came  back  to 
the  lodge,  pale  and  emaciated.  His  wife  in  the  mean 
time  had  dug  through  the  snow,  and  got  a  small  quan- 
tity of  the  root  called  truffles.  These  she  boiled  and 
set  before  him.  When  he  had  finished  his  repast,  he 
took  his  large  bow  and  bent  it.  Then  placing  a  strong 
arrow  to  the  string,  he  drew  it  back,  and  sent  the  arrow, 
with  the  strength  of  a  giant,  through  the  side  of  his 
bark  lodge.  "There,"  said  he  to  his  wife,  "go  to  the 
outside,  and  you  will  find  a  large  bear,  shot  through  the 
heart."    She  did  so,  and  found  one  as  he  had  predicted. 

He  then  sent  the  children  out  to  get  red  willow  sticks. 
Of  these  he  cut  off  as  many  pieces,  of  equal  length,  as 
would  serve  to  invite  his  friends  to  a  feast.  A  red 
stick  was  sent  to  each  one,  not  forgetting  the  Moose 
and  the  Woodpecker. 

When  they  arrived,  they  were  astonished  to  see  such 
a  profusion  of  meat  cooked  for  them,  at  such  a  time  of 
scarcity.     Manabozho  understood   their  glances,  and 


OR,  MANABOZIIO. 


49 


be 
rong 

TOW, 

his 
the 
the 

ted. 

icks. 

h,  as 
red 

oose 

such 
lie  of 
and 


felt  a  conscious  pride  in  making  such  a  display.  "Ake- 
wazi,"  said  he,  to  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  party,  "  the 
weather  is  very  cold,  and  the  snow  lasts  a  long  time. 
We  can  kill  nothing  now  but  small  squirrels.  And  I 
have  sent  for  you  to  help  me  eat  some  of  them."  The 
Woodpecker  was  the  first  to  put  a  mouthful  of  the  bear's 
meat  to  his  mouth,  but  he  had  no  sooner  begun  to  taste 
it,  than  it  changed  into  a  dry  powder,  and  set  him 
coughing.  It  appeared  as  bitter  as  ashes.  The  Moose 
felt  the  same  effect,  and  began  to  cough.  Each  one, 
in  turn,  was  added  to  the  number  of  coughers.  But 
they  had  too  much  sense  of  decorum,  and  respect  for 
their  entertainer,  to  say  anything.  The  meat  looked 
very  fine.  They  thought  they  would  try  more  of  it. 
But  the  more  they  ate  the  faster  they  couahed  and  the 
louder  became  the  uproar,  until  Manabozho,  exerting 
his  former  power,  which  he  now  felt  to  be  renewed, 
transformed  them  all  into  the  adjidamo,  or  squirrel,  an 
animal  which  is  still  found  to  have  the  habit  of  barking, 
or  coughing,  whenever  it  sees  any  one  approach  its  nest. 


The  story  of  this  chief  of  northern  myths  is  dropped 
in  my  notes  at  this  point  of  his  triumph  over  the 
strongest  of  the  reptile  race.  But  his  feats  and  adven- 
tures by  land  and  sea  do  not  terminate  here.  There 
is  scarcely  a  prominent  lake,  mountain,  precipice,  or 
stream  in  the  northern  part  of  America,  which  is  not 
hallowed  in  Indian  story  by  his  fabled  deeds.  Further 
accounts  will  be  found  in  several  of  the  subsequent 
tales,  which  are  narrated  by  the  Indians  in  an  indepen- 
dent form,  and  may  be  now  appropriately  left  as  they 
were  found,  as  episodes,  detached  from  the  original 
story.  To  collect  all  these  and  arrange  them  in  order 
would  be  an  arduous  labor;  and,  after  all,  such  an 
5 


'I 


!|»". 


i 


50 


HIAWATHA ; 


arrangement  would  lack  consistency  and  keeping,  unless 
much  of  the  thread  necessary  to  present  them  in  an  Eng- 
lish dress  were  supplied  by  alteration,  and  transposition. 
The  portions  above  narrated  present  a  beginning  and 
an  end,  which  could  hardly  be  said  of  the  loose  and 
disjointed  fragmentary  tales  referred  to.  How  long 
Manabozho  lived  on  earth  is  not  related.  We  hear 
nothing  more  of  his  grandmother ;  every  mouth  is  filled 
with  his  queer  adventures,  ,  I'icks,  and  sufferings.  He 
was  everywhere  present  where  danger  presented  itself, 
power  was  required,  or  miscliief  was  going  forward. 
Nothing  was  too  low  or  trivial  for  him  to  engage  in, 
nor  too  high  or  difficult  for  him  to  attempt.  He 
affected  to  be  influenced  by  the  spirit  of  a  god,  and  was 
really  actuated  by  the  malignity  of  a  devil.  The  period 
of  his  labors  and  adventures  having  expired,  he  with- 
drew to  dwell  with  his  brother  in  the  North,  where  he 
is  understood  to  direct  those  storms  which  proceed 
from  the  points  west  of  the  pole.  He  is  regarded  as 
the  spirit  of  the  northwest  tempests,  but  receives  no 
worship  from  the  present  race  of  Indians.  It  is  be- 
lieved by  them  that  he  is  again  to  appear,  and  to  exer- 
cise an  important  power  in  the  final  disposition  of  the 
human  race. 

In  this  singular  tissue  of  incongruities  may  be  per- 
ceived some  ideas  probably  derived  from  Asiatic 
sources.  It  will  be  found  in  the  legends  of  the  visitors 
to  the  Sun  and  Moon,  and  of  the  white  stone  canoe, 
that  Manabozho  was  met  on  the  way,  and  he  is  repre- 
sented as  expressing  a  deep  repentance  for  the  bad  acts 
he  had  committed  while  on  earth.  He  is,  however,  found 
exercising  the  vocation  of  a  necromancer ;  has  a  jos- 
sakecd's  lodge,  from  which  he  utters  oracles  ;  and 
finally  transforms  on  the  spot  two  of  the  party,  who 


OR,  MANABOZHO. 


51 


had  consulted  him,  and  asked  the  pjift  of  immortality, 
the  one  into  a  cedar-tree,  and  the  other  into  a  block  of 
granite. 

Manabozho  is  regarded  by  the  Indians  as  a  divine 
benefactor,  and  is  admired  and  extolled  as  the  per- 
sonification of  strength  and  wisdom.  Yet  he  con- 
stantly presents  the  paradox  of  being  a  mere  mortal ; 
is  driven  to  low  and  common  expedients  ;  and  never 
utters  a  sentiment  wiser  or  better  than  the  people 
among  whom  he  appears.  Tlie  conception  of  a  divin- 
ity, pure,  changeless,  and  just,  as  well  as  benevolent, 
in  the  distribution  of  its  providences,  has  not  been 
reached  by  any  traits  exhibited  in  the  character  of  this 
personage.  And  if  such  notions  had  ever  been  con- 
ceived by  the  ancestors  of  the  present  race  of  Indians 
in  the  East,  they  have  been  obliterated,  in  the  course 
of  their  long,  dark,  and  hopeless  pilgrimage  in  the 
forests  of  America.  The  prevalence  of  this  legend, 
among  the  Indian  tribes,  is  extensive. 

The  character,  the  place,  which  he  holds  in  the  Indian 
mythology  are  further  denoted  in  the  5th  vol.  of  my 
Hist.,  p.  417,  where  he  is  represented  as  giving  passage 
to  souls  on  their  way  through  the  regions  of  space,  to 
the  Indian  paradise ;  and  also  in  the  legend  of  the 
White  Stone  Canoe.  The  general  myth,  is  recognized 
in  the  legend  of  the  Iroquois,  under  the  name  of  Hia- 
watha, and  Tarenyawazon.  See  Notes  on  the  Iro- 
quois, page  2T0  (1846),  and  also  in  the  3d  vol.  Hist., 
p.  314.  Mr.  Longfellow  has  given  prominence  to  it, 
and  to  its  chief  episodes,  by  selecting  and  generalizing 
such  traits  as  appeared  best  susceptible  of  poetic  uses. 


I 


mV 


%■ 


PAUr-PUK-KEEWISS. 


The  vernal  equinox  in  the  north,  generally  takes 
place  while  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow,  and  win- 
ter still  wears  a  polar  aspect.  Storms  of  wind  and 
light  drifting  snow,  expressively  called  poudre  by  the 
French,  and  peewun  by  the  Indians,  fill  the  atmo- 
sphere, and  render  it  impossible  to  distinguish  objects  at 
a  short  distance.  The  fine  powdery  flakes  of  snow  are 
driven  into  the  smallest  crannies  of  buildings  and  fix- 
tures, and  seem  to  be  endowed  with  a  subtle  power  of 
insinuation,  which  renders  northern  joinerwork  but  a 
poor  defence.  It  is  not  uncommon  for  the  sleeper,  on 
waking  up  in  the  morning,  to  find  heaps  of  snow, 
where  he  had  supposed  himself  quite  secure  on  lying 
down. 

Such  seasons  are,  almost  invariably,  times  of  scarcity 
and  hunger  with  the  Indians,  for  the  light  snows  have 
buried  up  the  traps  of  the  hunters,  and  the  fishermen 
are  deterred  from  exercising  their  customary  skill  in 
decoying  fish  through  orifices  cut  in  the  ice.  They  are 
often  reduced  to  the  greatest  straits,  and  compelled  to 
exercise  their  utmost  ingenuity  to  keep  their  children 
from  starving.  Abstinence,  on  the  part  of  the  elder 
members  of  the  family,  is  regarded  both  as  a  duty  and 
a  merit.  Every  effort  is  made  to  satisfy  the  importu- 
nity of  the  little  ones  for  food,  and  if  there  be  a  story- 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


53 


ity 
Ue 
len 
I  in 
iire 
to 
len 
ier 
id 

LU- 

y- 


teller  in  the  lodge,  he  is  sure  to  draw  upon  his  cabin 
lore,  to  amuse  their  minds,  and  beguile  the  time. 

In  these  storms,  when  each  inmate  of  the  lodge  has 
his  conaus,  or  wrapper,  tightly  drawn  around  him,  and 
all  are  cowering  around  the  cabin  fire,  should  some  sud- 
den puff  of  wind  drive  a  volume  of  light  snow  into  the 
lodge,  it  would  scarcely  happen,  but  that  some  one  of 
the  group  would  cry  out,  "Ah,  Pauppukkeewiss  is  now 
gathering  his  harvest,"  an  expression  which  has  the 
effect  to  put  them  all  into  good  humor. 

Pauppukkeewiss  was  a  crazy  brain,  whc  played  many 
queer  tricks,  but  took  care,  nevertheless,  to  supply  his 
family  and  children  with  food.  But,  in  this,  he  was 
not  always  successful.  Many  winters  have  passed  since 
he  was  overtaken ;  at  this  very  season  of  the  year,  with 
great  want,  and  he,  with  his  whole  family,  was  o\:  ^ho 
point  of  starvation.  Every  resource  seemed  to  have 
failed.  The  snow  was  so  deep,  and  the  storm  continued 
so  long,  that  he  could  not  even  find  a  partridge  or  a 
hare.  And  his  usual  resource  of  fish  had  entirely  failed. 
His  lodge  stood  in  a  point  of  woods,  not  far  back  from 
the  shores  of  the  Gitchiguma,  or  great  water,  where 
the  autumnal  storms  had  piled  up  the  ice  into  high 
pinnacles,  resembling  castles. 

"I  will  go,"  said  he  to  his  family  onp  morning,  "to 
these  castles,  and  solicit  the  pity  of  tht-  -•  irits  who  in- 
habit them,  for  I  know  that  they  are  the  residence  of 
some  of  the  spirits  of  Kabiboonoka."  He  did  so,  and 
found  that  his  petition  was  not  disregarded.  They  told 
him  to  fill  his  mushkemoot,  or  sack,  with  the  ice  and 
snow,  and  pass  on  toward  his  lodge,  without  looking 
back,  until  he  came  to  a  certain  hill.  He  must  then 
drop  it  and  leave  it  till  morning,  when  he  would  find  it 
filled  with  fish. 

5* 


i 


'M 


I 


54 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


They  cautioned  him,  that  he  must  hy  no  means  look 
back,  although  he  would  hear  a  great  many  voices  cry- 
ing out  to  him,  in  abusive  terms,  for  these  voices  were 
nothing  but  the  wind  playing  through  the  branches  of 
the  trees.  He  faithfully  obeyed  the  injunction,  although 
he  found  it  hard  to  avoid  turning  round,  to  see  who 
was  calling  out  to  him.  And  when  he  visited  his  sack 
in  the  morning,  he  found  it  filled  with  fish. 

It  chanced  that  Manabozho  visited  him  on  the  morn- 
ing that  he  brought  home  the  sack  of  fish.  He  was 
invited  to  partake  of  a  feast,  which  Pauppukkeewiss 
ordered  to  be  prepared  for  him.  While  they  were  eat- 
ing, Manabozho  could  not  help  asking  him,  by  what 
means  he  had  procured  such  an  abundance  of  food,  at 
a  time  when  they  were  all  in  a  state  of  starvation. 

Pauppukkeewiss  frankly  told  him  the  secret,  and  re- 
peated the  precautions  which  were  necessary  to  insure 
success.  Manabozho  determined  to  profit  by  his  infor- 
mation, and  as  soon  as  he  could,  he  set  out  to  visit  the 
icy  castles.  All  things  happened  as  he  had  been  told. 
The  spirits  seemed  propitious,  and  told  him  to  fill  and 
carry.  He  accordingly  filled  his  sacks  with  ice  and 
snow,  and  proceeded  rapidly  toward  the  hill  of  trans- 
mutation. But  as  he  ran  he  heard  voices  calling  out 
behind  him,  "Thief  1  thief  I  He  has  stolen  fish  from 
Kabiboonoka,"  cried  one.  "  Mukumik  I  mukumik  I 
Take  it  away  1     Take  it  away  I"  cried  another. 

In  fine,  his  ears  were  so  assailed  by  all  manner  of  op- 
probrious terms,  that  he  could  not  avoid  turning  his 
head,  to  see  who  it  was  that  thus  abused  him.  But  his 
curiosity  dissolved  the  charm.  When  he  came  to  visit 
his  bags  next  morning,  he  found  them  filled  with  ico 
and  snow.  A  high  drifting  snow  storm  never  fails  to 
bring  up  this  story.     The  origin  of  this  queer  character 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


55 


3 

u 

it 
p 

lo 

r 


is  as  queer  as  his  acts  are  phantastic.  The  myth  asserts, 
that  a  man  of  large  stature,  and  great  activity  of  mind 
and  body,  found  himself  standing  alone  on  a  prairie. 
He  thought  to  himself,  "  How  came  I  here  ?  Are 
there  no  beings  on  this  earth  but  myself  ?  I  must  tra- 
vel and  see.  I  must  walk  till  I  find  the  abodes  of 
men,"  So  soon  as  his  mind  was  made  up,  he  set  out, 
he  knew  not  where,  in  search  of  habitations.  No  ob- 
stacles could  divert  him  from  his  purpose.  Neither 
prairies,  rivers,  woods,  nor  storms  had  the  cfiTect  to 
daunt  his  courage  or  turn  him  back.  After  travelling 
a  long  time  he  came  to  a  wood,  in  which  he  saw  de- 
cayed stumps  of  trees,  as  if  they  had  been  cut  in  ancient 
times,  but  no  other  traces  of  men.  Pursuing  his  jour- 
ney, he  found  more  recent  marks  of  the  same  kind ; 
and  after  this,  he  came  to  fresh  traces  of  human  beings ; 
first  their  footsteps,  and  then  the  wood  they  had  cut, 
lying  in  heaps.  Continuing  on,  he  emerged  towards 
dusk  from  the  forest,  and  beheld  at  a  distance  a  large 
village  of  high  lodges,  standing  on  rising  ground.  Ho 
said  to  himself,  "  I  will  arrive  there  on  a  run."  Off 
he  started  with  all  his  speed ;  on  coming  to  the  first 
large  lodge,  he  jumped  over  it.  Those  within  saw 
something  pass  over  the  opening,  and  then  heard  a 
thump  on  the  ground. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  they  all  said. 

One  came  out  to  see,  and  invited  him  in.  Ue  found 
himself  in  company  with  an  old  chief  and  several  men, 
who  were  seated  in  the  lodge.  Meat  was  set  before 
him,  after  which  the  chief  asked  him  where  he  was 
going  and  what  his  name  was.  He  answered,  that  ho 
was  in  search  of  adventures,  and  his  name  was  Paup- 
Puk-Keewiss.     A  stare  followed. 


t 


56 


PAUP-rUK-KEEWISS. 


"Paup-Puk-KeewissI"*  gaid  one  to  another,  and  a 
general  titter  went  round. 

He  was  not  easy  in  his  new  position  ;  the  village  was 
too  small  to  give  him  full  scope  for  his  powers,  and 
after  a  short  stay  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  farther, 
taking  with  him  a  young  man  who  had  formed  a  strong 
attachment  for  him,  and  might  serve  him  as  his  mesh-in- 
au-wa.f  They  set  out  together,  and  when  his  companion 
was  fatigued  with  walking,  he  would  show  him  a  few 
tricks,  such  as  leaping  over  trees,  and  turning  round 
on  one  ]cg  till  he  made  the  dust  fly,  by  which  he  was 
mightily  pleased,  although  it  sometimes  happened  that 
the  character  of  these  tricks  frightened  him. 

One  day  they  came  to  a  very  large  village,  where 
they  were  well  received.  After  staying  in  it  some  time, 
they  were  informed  of  a  number  of  manitoes  who  lived 
at  a  distance,  and  who  made  it  a  practice  to  kill  all 
who  came  to  their  lodge.  Attempts  had  been  made  to 
extirpate  them,  but  the  war-parties  who  went  out  for 
this  purpose  were  always  unsuccessful.  Paup-Puk- 
Keewiss  determined  to  visit  them,  although  he  was  ad- 
vised not  to  do  so.  The  chief  warned  him  of  the  dan- 
ger of  the  visit ;  but,  finding  him  resolved, 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  if  you  will  go,  being  my  guest,  I 
will  send  twenty  warriors  to  serve  you." 

He  thanked  him  for  the  offer.  Twenty  young  men 
were  ready  at  the  instant,  and  they  went  forward,  and 


*  This  word  nppears  to  bo  derived  from  the  same  root  ns 
Punp-puk-kc-naij,  a  gras.~  oppor,  tlio  inlleotion  m  making  it 
per?  Jiial.  Tho  Indian  idea  is  that  of  harum  soarum.  IIo  is 
regarded  as  a  foil  to  Manabozho,  with  wliom  lie  is  fre(iuently 
brought  in  contact  in  aboriginal  story  craft. 

t  This  is  an  ollicial  who  bears  the  pipe  for  tho  ruling  chief, 
ami  is  an  infeiior  dignity  in  councils. 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


b1 


in  due  time  described  tlie  lodge  of  the  manitocs.  He 
placed  bis  friend  and  the  warriors  near  enough  to  see 
all  that  passed,  while  he  went  alone  to  the  lodge.  As 
he  entered  he  saw  five  horrid-looking  manitoes  in  the 
act  of  eating.  It  was  the  father  and  his  four  sons. 
They  looked  hideous  ;  their  eyes  were  swimming  low  in 
their  heads,  as  if  half  starved.  They  offered  him  some- 
thing to  eat,  which  he  refused. 

"  What  have  you  come  for  ?"  said  the  old  one. 

"  Nothing,"  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  answered. 

They  all  stared  at  him. 

"  Do  you  not  wish  to  wrestle  ?"  they  all  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied. 

A  hideous  smile  came  over  their  faces. 

"  You  go,"  they  said  to  the  eldest  brother. 

They  got  ready,  and  were  soon  clinched  in  each 
other's  arms  for  ''  deadly  throw.  He  knew  their  object 
—his  death — his  Jlesh  was  all  they  wanted,  but  he  was 
prepared  for  them. 

"  Haw  I  hawl"*  they  cried,  and  soon  the  dust  and 
dry  leaves  flew  about  as  if  driven  by  a  strong  wind. 

The  manito  was  strong,  but  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  soon 
found  that  he  could  master  him  ;  and,  giving  him  a  trip, 
he  threw  him  with  a  giant's  force  head  foremost  on  a 
stone,  and  he  fell  like  a  puffed  thing. 

The  brothers  stepped  up  in  quick  succession,  but  ho 
put  a  number  of  tricks  in  force,  and  soon  the  whole 
four  lay  bleeding  on  the  ground.  The  old  manito  got 
frightened  and  ran  for  his  life.  Paup-Puk-Keewiss 
pursued  ium  for  sport ;  sometimes  he  was  before  him, 
sometimes  flying  over  his  head.     He  would  now  give 


il« 


ii 


i 


n 


*  Tills  Is  a  studied  perversion  nf  the  interjoctioii  ffo. 
another  instunco  (vide  Wassamo)  it  is  rendered  JIuke. 


In 


58 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


kick,  then  a  push 


a  trip,  till  he  was  almost 
exhausted.  Meantime  his  friend  and  the  warriors 
cried  out,  "Ilal  ha  I  a!  hal  ha  I  a!  Paup-Puk- 
Keewiss  is  driving  him  before  him."  The  manito  only 
turned  his  head  now  and  then  to  look  back  ;  at  last, 
Paup-Puk-Keewiss  gave  him  a  kick  on  his  back,  and 
broke  his  back  bone  ;  down  he  fell,  and  the  blood  gush- 
ing out  of  his  mouth  prevented  him  from  saying  a  word. 
The  warriors  piled  all  the  bodies  together  in  the  lodge, 
and  then  took  Ore  and  burned  them.  They  all  looked 
with  deep  interest  at  the  quantity  of  human  bones  scat- 
tered around. 

Paup-Puk-Kcewiss  then  took  three  arrows,  and  after 
having  performed  a  ceremony  to  the  Great  Spirit,  he 
shot  one  into  the  air,  crying,  with  a  loud  voice, 

"  Toil  who  are  lying  down,  rise  up,  or  you  will  be 
hit!"  The  bones  all  moved  to  one  place.  He  shot 
the  second  arrow,  repeating  the  same  words,  when  each 
bone  drew  towards  its  fellow-bone  ;  the  third  arrow 
brought  forth  to  life  the  whole  multitude  of  people  who 
had  been  killed  by  the  manitoes.  Paup-Puk-Keewiss 
then  led  them  to  the  chief  of  the  village  who  had  proved 
his  friend,  and  gave  them  up  to  him.  Soon  after  the 
chief  came  with  his  counsellors. 

"  Who  is  more  worthy,"  said  he,  "  to  rule  than  you  ? 
Tou  alone  can  defend  them." 

Paup-Puk-Keewiss  thanked  him,  and  told  him  he 
was  in  search  of  more  adventures.  The  chief  insisted. 
Paup-Puk-Keewiss  told  him  to  confer  the  chieftainship 
on  his  friend,  who,  he  said,  would  remain  while  he  went 
on  his  travels.  lie  told  them  that  he  would,  some 
time  or  other,  come  back  and  sec  them. 

"llol  hoi  hoi"  they  all  cried,  "come  back  again 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


59 


It 


and  see  us,"  insisting  on  it.     lie  promised  thcra   lie 
would,  and  then  set  out  alone. 

After  travelling  some  time  he  came  to  a  large  lake  ; 
on  looking  about,  he  discovered  a  very  large  otter  on 
an  island.  He  thought  to  himself,  "  His  skin  will 
make  me  a  fine  pouch,"  and  immediately  drew  up,  at 
long  shots,  and  drove  an  arrow  into  his  side.  He 
waded  into  the  lake,  and  with  some  difficulty  dragged 
hira  ashore.  He  took  out  the  entrails,  and  even  then 
the  carcass  was  so  heavy  that  it  was  as  much  as  he 
could  do  to  drag  it  up  a  hill  overlooking  the  lake.  As 
soon  as  he  got  him  up  into  the  sunshine,  where  it  was 
warm,  he  skinned  him,  and  threw  the  carcass  some  dis- 
tance, thinking  the  war-eagle  would  come,  and  he  should 
have  a  chance  to  get  his  skin  and  feathers  as  head  or- 
naments. He  soon  heard  a  rushing  noise  in  the  air, 
but  could  see  nothing ;  by  and  by,  a  large  eagle  drop- 
ped, as  if  from  the  air,  on  the  otter's  carcass.  He 
drew  his  bow,  and  the  arrow  passed  through  under 
both  his  wings.  The  bird  made  a  convulsive  flight  up- 
wards with  such  force,  that  the  heavy  carcass  (which 
was  nearly  as  big  as  a  moose)  was  borne  up  several 
feet.  Fortunately,  both  claws  were  fastened  deeply  in- 
to the  meat,  the  weight  of  which  soon  brought  the 
bird  down.  He  skinned  him,  crowned  his  head  with 
the  trophy,  and  next  day  was  on  his  way,  on  the  look- 
out for  something  new. 

After  walking  a  while  he  came  to  a  lake,  which  flood- 
ed the  trees  on  its  banks  ;  he  found  it  was  only  a  lake 
made  by  beavers.  He  took  his  station  on  the  elevated 
dam,  where  the  stream  escaped,  to  see  whether  any  of 
the  beavers  would  show  themselves.  He  soon  saw  the 
head  of  one  peeping  out  of  the  water  to  see  who  dis- 
turbed them. 


t\ 


!■* 


i) 


60 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


"My  friend,"  said  Paup-Puk-Keewiss,  "could  you 
not  turn  me  into  a  beaver  like  yourself?"  for  he  thought, 
if  he  could  become  a  beaver,  he  would  see  and  know 
how  these  animals  lived. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  beaver ;  "  I  will  go 
and  ask  the  others." 

Soon  all  the  beavers  showed  their  heads  above  the 
water,  and  looked  to  see  if  he  was  armed ;  but  he  had 
left  his  bow  and  arrows  in  a  hollow  tree  at  a  short  dis- 
tance.    When  they  were  satisfied,  they  all  came  near. 

"  Can  you  not,  with  all  your  united  power,"  said  he, 
"  turn  me  into  a  beaver  ?  I  wish  to  live  among  you." 

"Yes,"  answered  their  chief;  "  lay  down ;"  and  he 
soon  found  himself  changed  into  one  of  them. 

"  You  must  make  me  large j"*^  said  he  ;  "  larger  than 
any  of  you." 

"Yes,  yes  1"  said  they.  "  By  and  by,  when  we  get 
into  the  lodge,  it  shall  be  done." 

In  they  all  dove  into  the  lake  ;  and,  in  passing  large 
heaps  of  limbs  and  logs  at  the  bottom,  he  asked  the  use 
of  them ;  they  answered,  "It  is  for  our  winter's  pro- 
visions."* When  they  all  got  into  the  lodge,  their 
number  was  about  one  hundred.  The  lodge  was  large 
and  warm. 

"  Now  we  will  make  you  large,"  said  they.  "  Will 
that  do  ?"  exerting  their  power. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  for  he  found  he  was  ten  times 
the  size  of  the  largest. 

"  You  need  not  go  out,"  said  they.  "  We  will 
bring  your  food  into  the  lodge,  and  you  will  be  our 
chief." 


*  Wc  may  mention,  for  the  youth  who  may  read  tlicse  tales, 
tliat  beavers  live  by  gnawing  the  bark  of  trees. 


PAUP-rUK-KEEWISS. 


61 


II 


111 

ir 


|s» 


"  Yery  well,"  Paup-Pak-Keewiss  ansvvereil.  He 
thought,  *'  I  will  stay  here  and  grow  fat  at  their  ex- 
pense. But,  soon  after,  one  ran  into  the  lodge  out  of 
breath,  saying,  "  We  are  visited  by  Indians."  All 
huddled  together  in  great  fear.  The  water  began  to 
lower,  for  the  hunters  had  broken  down  the  dam,  and 
they  soon  heard  them  on  the  roof  of  the  lodge  breaks 
ing  it  up.  Out  jumped  all  the  beavers  into  the  water, 
and  so  escaped.  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  tried  to  follow 
them ;  but,  alas  !  they  had  made  him  so  large  that  he 
could  not  creep  out  of  the  hole.  He  tried  to  call  them 
back,  but  to  no  effect ;  he  worried  himself  so  much  in 
trying  to  escape,  that  he  looked  like  a  bladder.  He 
could  not  turn  himself  back  into  a  man,  although  he 
heard  and  understood  all  the  hunters  said.  One  of 
them  put  his  head  in  at  the  top  of  the  lodge. 

'^Ty-auV  cried  he ;  ^' Tut  Ty-aul  Me-shau-mik — 
king  of  the  beavers  is  in."  They  all  got  at  him,  and 
knocked  his  skull  till  it  was  as  soft  as  his  brains.  He 
thought,  as  well  as  ever  he  did,  although  he  was  a 
beaver.  Seven  or  eight  of  them  then  placed  his  body 
on  poles  and  carried  hira  home.  As  they  went,  he  re- 
flected in  this  manner:  "What  will  become  of  me? 
my  ghost  or  shadow  will  not  die  after  they  get  me  to 
their  lodges."  Invitations  were  immediately  sent  out 
for  a  grand  feast.  The  won: en  took  him  out  into  the 
snow  to  skin  him  ;  but,  as  soon  as  his  flesh  got  cold, 
his  Jee-hi  went  off. 

Paup-Puk-Kewiss  found  himself  standing  near  a 
prairie,  having  reassumed  his  mortal  shape.  After 
walking  a  distance,  he  saw  a  herd  of  elk  feeding.  He 
admired  the  apparent  ease  and  enjoyment  of  their  life, 
and  thought  there  could  be  nothing  pleasanter  than 
the  liberty  of  running  about  and  feeding  on  the  prui- 
6 


!l  9 


t 


! 


62 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


rics.  He  asked  them  if  they  could  not  turn  him  into 
their  shape. 

"  Yes,"  they  answered,  after  a  panse.  "  Get  down 
on  your  hands  and  feet."  And  he  soon  found  himself 
an  elk. 

"  I  want  big  horns,  big  feet,"  said  he  ;  "  I  wish  to  be 
very  large." 

"  Yes  !  yes  I"  they  said. 

"  There  I'^  exerting  their  power  ;  "  are  you  big 
enough  ?" 

"  Yes  !"  he  answered,  for  he  saw  that  he  was  very 
large.  They  spent  a  good  time  in  grazing  and  run- 
ning. Being  rather  cold  one  day,  he  went  into  a 
thick  wood  for  shelter,  and  was  followed  by  most  of 
the  herd.  They  had  not  been  long  there  before  some 
elks  from  behind  passed  the  others  like  a  strong  wind. 
All  took  the  alarm,  and  off  they  ran,  he  with  the  rest. 

"  Keep  out  on  the  plains,"  they  said. 

But  he  found  it  was  too  late,  as  they  had  already 
got  entangled  in  the  thick  woods.  Paup-Puk-Kee- 
wiss  soon  smelt  the  hunters,  who  were  closely  follow- 
ing his  trail,  for  they  had  left  all  the  others  and  fol- 
lowed him.  He  jumped  furiously,  and  broke  down 
saplings  in  his  flight,  but  it  only  served  to  retard  his 
progress.  He  soon  felt  an  arrow  in  his  side  ;  he 
jumped  over  trees  in  his  agony,  but  the  arrows  ck''- 
tered  thicker  and  thicker  upon  his  sides,,  and  at  last 
one  entered  his  heart.  He  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
heard  the  whoop  of  triumph  sounded  by  the  hunters. 
On  coming  up,  they  looked  on  the  carcass  with  aston- 
ishment, and  with  their  hands  up  to  their  mouths 
exclaimed  Ty-au  1  Ty-au  I  There  were  about  sixty 
id  the  party,  who  had  come  out  on  a  special  hunt,  as 
one  of  their  number  had,  the  day  before,  observed  his 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS- 


63 


large  trades  on  the  plains.  After  skinninp^  him  and 
his  flesh  getting  eohl,  Iiis  Jee-hi  took  its  flight  from  the 
carcass,  and  he  again  found  himself  in  humau  shape, 
with  a  bow  and  arrows. 

lint  his  passion  for  adventure  was  not  yet  cook  " ; 
for,  on  coming  to  a  large  lake  with  a  sandy  beach,  .le 
saw  a  large  flock  of  brant,  and,  speaking  to  them,  asked 
them  to  turn  him  into  a  bmnt. 

''  Yes,"  they  replied. 

"  But  I  want  to  be  very  large,"  he  said. 

"Very  well,"  they  answered;  and  he  soon  found 
himself  a  large  brant,  all  the  others  standing  gazing  in 
astonishment  at  his  large  size. 

"  You  must  fly  as  leader,"  they  said. 

"No,"  answered  Paup-Puk-Keew'ss,  "I  will  fly 
behind," 

"  Very  well,"  tliey  said,  "  One  thing  iiore  we 
have  to  say  to  you.  You  must  be  careful,  in  flying, 
not  to  look  doion,  for  something  may  happen  to  you." 

**  Well !  it  is  so,"  said  he  ;  and  soon  the  flock  rose 
up  into  the  air,  for  they  were  bound  north.  They 
flew  very  ftxst,  he  Ijehind.  One  day,  while  going  with 
a  strong  wind,  and  as  swift  as  their  wings  could  flap, 
while  passing  over  a  large  villa^eVt^iie  Indians  raised  a 
great  shout  on  seeing  them,  pa,fliciilarly  on  Paup-Puk- 
Keewiss's  account,  for  his  wings  were  broader  than 
two  large  aupukwa.*  They  made  such  a  noise,  that 
he  forgot  what  had  been  told  him,  about  looking 
down.  They  were  now  going  as  swift  as  arrows  ;  and, 
as  soon  as  he  brought  his  neck  in  and  stretched  it  down 
to  look  at  the  shouters,  his  tail  was  caught  by  the 
wind,  and  over  and  over  he  was  blown.     He  tried  to 


*  Mats, 


C4 


PAU  P-PU  K  •  K  EE  W 1 SS. 


rij^lit  himself,  but  without  success.  Down,  down  he 
went,  making  more  turns  than  he  wished  for,  from  a 
height  of  several  miles.  The  first  thing  he  knew  was, 
that  he  was  jammed  into  a  large  hollow  tree.  To  get 
back  or  forward  was  out  of  ihe  (juestion,  and  there  he 
remained  till  his  brant  life  was  ended  by  starvation. 
His  Jee-bi  again  left  the  carcass,  and  he  once  more 
found  himself  in  the  shape  of  a  human  being. 

Travelling  was  still  his  passion  ;  and,  while  travel- 
ling, he  came  to  a  lodge  in  which  were  two  old  men 
with  heads  white  from  age.  They  treated  him  well, 
and  he  told  them  that  he  was  going  back  to  his  village 
to  see  his  friends  and  people.  They  said  they  would 
aid  him,  and  pointed  out  the  direction  he  should  go  ; 
l)ut  they  were  deceivers.  After  walking  all  day,  he 
came  to  a  lodge  looking  very  much  like  the  first,  with 
two  old  men  in  it  with  white  heads.  It  was,  in  fact, 
the  very  same  lodge,  and  he  had  been  walking  in  a 
circle  ;  but  they  did  not  undeceive  him,  pretending  to 
be  strangers,  and  saying,  in  a  kind  voice,  "We  will 
show  you  the  way."  After  walking  the  third  day,  and 
coming  back  to  the  same  place,  he  found  them  out  in 
their  tricks,  for  he  had  cut  a  notch  on  the  doorpost. 

"  Who  are  you,"  said  he  to  them,  "  to  treat  me  so  ?" 
and  he  ga\  c  one  a  kick  and  the  other  a  slap,  which 
killed  them.  Their  blood  flew  against  the  rocks  near 
the  lodge,  and  this  is  the  reason  there  are  red  streaks 
in  them  to  this  day.  He  then  burned  their  lodge 
down,  and  freed  the  earth  of  two  pretended  good  men, 
who  were  manitoes. 

He  then  continued  his  journey,  not  knowing  exactly 
which  way  to  go.  At  last  he  came  to  a  big  lake.  He 
got  on  the  highest  hill  to  try  and  see  the  opposite  side, 
but  he  could  not.     He  then  made  a  canoe,  and  took  a 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


65 


sail  into  the  lake.  On  lookinp^  into  the  water,  which 
was  very  clear,  before  he  got  to  the  abrupt  depth,  he 
saw  the  bottom  covered  with  dark  fishes,  numbers  of 
which  he  cauf?ht.  This  inspired  him  witii  a  wish  to  re- 
turn to  his  village  and  to  bring  his  people  to  live  near 
this  lake.  He  went  on,  and  towards  evening  came  to 
a  large  island,  where  he  encamped  and  ate  the  fish  lie 
had  speared. 

Next  day  he  returned  to  the  main  land,  and,  in 
wandering  along  the  shore,  he  en<.ounterod  a  more 
powerful  manito  than  himself,  called  Manabozho.  lie 
thought  best,  after  playing  him  a  trick,  to  keep  out  of 
his  way.  He  again  thought  of  returning  to  his  village; 
and,  transforming  himself  into  a  partridge,  took  his 
flight  towards  it.  In  a  short  time  he  reached  it,  and 
his  return  was  welcomed  with  feastings  and  songs. 
He  told  them  of  the  lake  and  the  fish,  and  persuaded 
them  all  to  remove  to  it,  as  it  would  be  easier  for 
them  to  live  there.  He  immediately  began  to  remove 
them  by  short  encampments,  and  all  things  turned  out 
as  he  had  said.  They  caught  abundance  of  fish. 
After  this,  a  messenger  came  for  him  in  the  shape  of  a 
bear,  who  said  that  their  king  wished  to  see  him  imme- 
diately at  his  village.  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  was  ready 
in  an  instant ;  and,  getting  on  to  the  messenger's  back, 
off  he  ran.  Towards  evening  they  went  up  a  higii 
mountain,  and  came  to  a  cave  where  the  bear-king 
lived.  He  was  a  very  large  person,  and  made  him 
welcome  by  inviting  him  into  his  lodge.  As  soon  as 
propriety  allowed,  he  spoke,  and  said  that  he  had  sent 
for  him  on  hearing  that  he  was  the  chief  who  was 
moving  a  large  party  towards  his  hunting-grounds. 

'*  You  must  know,"  said  he,  "  that  you  have  no  right 
there.     And  I  wish  you  would  leave  the  country  with 

6* 


i 


.i 


H: 


G6 


I'AUr-PUK-KEEWlSS. 


your  party,  or  else  the  strongest  force  will  take  po?;- 
session." 

"Very  well,"  replied  Paup-Puk-Keewiss.  "So  b.: 
it."  He  did  not  wish  to  do  anything  without  con- 
sulting his  people ;  and  besides,  he  saw  that  the  bear- 
king  was  raising  a  war  party.  He  then  told  him  he 
would  go  back  that  night.  The  bear-king  left  hirti  to 
do  as  he  wished,  but  told  him  that  one  of  his  young 
men  was  ready  at  his  command ;  and,  immediately 
jumping  on  his  back,  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  rode  home. 
He  assembled  the  village,  and  told  the  young  men  to 
kill  the  bear,  make  a  feast  of  it,  and  hang  the  head  out- 
side the  village,  for  he  knew  the  bear  spies  would  soon 
see  it,  and  carry  the  news  to  their  chief. 

Next  morning  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  got  all  his  young 
warriors  ready  for  a  fight.  After  waiting;  one  day,  the 
bear  war-party  came  in  sight,  making  a  tremendous 
noise.  The  bear-chief  advanced,  and  said  that  he  did 
not  wish. to  shed  the  blood  of  the  young  warriors;  but 
that  if  he,  Paup-Puk-Keewiss,  consented,  they  two 
would  have  a  race,  and  the  winner  should  kill  the 
losing  chief,  and  all  his  young  men  should  be  slaves  to 
the  other.  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  agreed,  and  they  ran 
before  all  the  warriors.  He  was  victor,  and  came  in 
first ;  but,  not  to  terminate  the  race  too  soon,  he  gave 
the  bear-chief  some  specimens  of  his  skill  and  swiftness 
by  forming  eddies  and  whirlwinds  with  the  sand,  as  he 
leaped  and  turned  about  him.  As  the  bear-chief  came  up, 
he  drove  an  arrow  through  him,  and  a  great  chief  fell. 
Having  done  this,  he  told  his  young  men  to  take  all 
those  blackfish  (meaning  the  bears),  and  tie  them  at 
the  door  of  each  lodge,  that  they  might  remain  in 
future  to  serve  as  servants. 

After  seeint^  that  all  was  quiet  and  prosperous  in  the 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


6t 


villap^e,  Panp-Puk-Keewias  felt  his  desire  for  adventure 
returning.  He  took  a  kind  leave  of  his  friends  and 
people,  and  started  off  again.  After  wandering  a  long 
time,  he  came  to  the  lodge  of  Manabozho,  who  was 
absent.  He  thought  he  would  play  him  a  triek,  and 
so  turned  everything  in  the  lodge  upside  down,  and 
killed  his  chickens.  Now  Manabozho  calls  all  the 
fowls  of  the  air  his  chickens ;  and  among  the  number 
was  a  raven,  the  meanest  of  birds,  which  Paup-Puk- 
Keewiss  killed  and  hung  up  by  the  neck  to  insult  him. 
He  then  went  on  till  he  came  to  a  very  high  point  of 
rocks  running  out  into  the  lake,  from  the  top  of  which 
he  could  see  the  country  back  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach.  While  sitting  there,  Manabozho's  mountain 
chickens  flew  round  and  past  him  in  great  numbers. 
So,  out  of  spite,  he  shot  them  in  great  numbers,  for 
his  arrows  were  sure  and  the  birds  very  plenty,  and  he 
amused  himself  by  throwing  the  birds  down  the  rocky 
precipice.  At  length  a  wary  bird  cried  out,  "  Paup- 
Puk-Keewis8  is  killing  us.  Go  and  tell  our  father  " 
Away  flew  a  delegation  of  them,  and  Manabozho  soon 
made  his  appearance  on  the  plain  below,  Paup-Puk- 
Keewiss  made  his  escape  on  the  opposite  side.  Mana- 
bozho cried  out  from  the  mountain — 

"  The  earth  is  not  so  large  but  I  can  get  up  to  you," 
Off  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  ran,  and  Manabozho  after  him. 
He  ran  over  hills  and  prairies  with  all  bis  speed,  bul 
still  saw  his  pursuer  hard  after  him.  He  thought  of 
this  expedient.  He  stopped  and  climbed  a  large  pine- 
tree,  stripped  it  of  all  its  green  folinge,  and  threw  it  to 
the  winds,  and  then  went  on.  When  Manabozho 
reached  the  spot,  the  tree  addressed  him. 

"  Great  chief,'*  said  the  tree,  **  will  you  give  me  mj 
life  again  ?     Paup-Puk-Keewiss  has  killed  mo." 


ii 


,  ^ 


68 


PAUP-PUK-KEEWISS. 


"  Yes,"  replied  Manabozho  ;  and  it  took  him  some 
time  to  gather  the  scattered  foliage,  and  then  renewed 
the  pursuit.  Paup-Puk-Keevviss  repeated  the  same 
thing  with  the  hemlock,  and  with  various  other  trees, 
for  Manabozho  would  always  stop  to  restore  what  he 
had  destroyed.  By  this  means  he  got  in  advance  ;  but 
Manabozho  persevered,  and  was  fast  overtaking  him, 
when  Paup-Puk-Keevviss  happened  to  see  an  elk.  He 
asked  him  to  take  him  on  Lis  back,  which  the  elk  did, 
and  for  some  time  he  made  great  progress,  but  still 
Manabozho  was  in.  sight.  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  dis- 
mounted, and,  coming  to  a  large  sandstone  rock,  he 
broke  it  in  pieces  and  scattered  the  grains.  Manabozho 
was  so  close  upon  him  at  this  place  that  he  had  almost 
caught  him  ;  but  the  foundation  of  the  rock  cried  out, 

*'  llayel  Ne-me-sho,  Paup-Puk-Keewiss  has  spoiled 
me.     Will  you  not  restore  me  to  life  ?" 

"  Yes,"  re))lied  Manabozho  ;  and  he  restored  the 
rock  to  its  previous  shape.  He  then  pushed  on  in  the 
pursuit  of  Paup-Puk-Keewiss,  and  had  got  so  near  as 
to  put  out  his  arm  to  seize  him ;  but  Paup-Puk-Kee- 
wiss dodged  him,  and  immediately  raised  such  a  dust 
and  commotion  by  whirlwinds  as  made  the  trees  break, 
and  the  sand  and  leaves  dance  in  the  air.  Again  and 
Manabozho's  hand  wcs  put  out  to  catch  him ;  but  he 
dodged  him  at  every  turn,  and  kept  up  such  a  tumult 
of  dust,  that  in  the  thickest  of  it,  he  dashed  into  a 
hollow  tree  which  had  been  blown  down,  and  changed 
himself  into  a  snako,  and  crei)t  out  at  the  roots.  Well 
that  he  did  ;  for  at  the  moment  he  had  got  out,  Mana- 
bozho, who  is  Ogee-bau-ge-mon,*  struck  it  with  his 


*  A  speoios  of  lightning. 


I'AUP-ruK-KEEWlSS. 

power,  and  it  wa^  in  f  ^^ 

'"";  '">"'•     At  a  distance  heTr  Ma„ab„^|,„  p,.,,,,^, 
"•ock  jutting  out  into  the  lake  ,,  "  '"•'  '"'''''  '''"'f  "t 
tl'e  precipice,  wl.ich  wa   It  "     >"",  '"'■  ""^  <•"»'  "f 
7'»''  -ear,  the  local  „ S''/ 1    ""'f '"^-     ^^  '■« 
"»<"•  a-"l   told  l.i,„   to     It  i,       T,''"''  ""''"'^  '"-^ 

~enT^r'^^^»^-^^^^^ 

guest--  '"^^•"''  »f  l"m,  but  l,e  said  to  his 

^ortlTop;:;::'^"'' '""' '  -•"''  -«"-  die  .ith 

"Open  itI"iIanabo.ho  again  cried 
i  'le  man  to  keut  «ilo..f     n.  • 

"l-'t^.     "Very  ,veli,"  1,^  Td     „f  .»'"'^''  '^  f-v  .no- 
"J^^lit  to  live  "    Ti..         .        '      ^  ^'^e  you  onlv  till 

-//Ho  sh:t  upi— ear  ^'"' ^"'^^' ''-•^  <:" 

:."-•.  'iv  Lack  c,oS,S:'e7.,r.''' "-"  '•-'" 


■  J^rk  shadows  afur 


'y,  and  tl 


•*"*  OUUUOVVS  afar    nnrl  K    U-      i      .  *"       "^    l^" 

nnublin,.  noise  of  th    c^^n.  ,  "" /''^■'■''  ""^  ''»""' 
"ear  to  tl,e  precipice  iZ  fl^  1    "'^'"'-     ^'  "" 

tottered,  and  fell      A .  i       ,  "'^  *'''"J  '"ek 

tiicnortall'^ ':,./"'"".''- 'heir  ruins  where. 


iirevv 


the 
«y  eunje 


iidit 


tl»e  mortal  bodies  of 


JJr'iiniiin. 


vS 


Was  r 
sh 


_  —  *  " 

Jt  was  only  then  th 


I'uup.puk-K 


split, 
^''•e  cnisjied 


tt  i'uup-ruk-K 


tiewiss  and  the  nia 


nito. 


"eulJydead.     He  had  hZi  ..;'"''''''  ^'^""^  ''« 
.«  .  I.... ,  .      ""'^  *^^^"  killed  in  di/n........ ......      . 


"i>c's  ;  bat  now  his  bod 


Munabozh 


(I 


ou 


'"0  eanic  and  look  tl 


y,  in  human  sh 


''<-'" t  animal 


"i'f,  was  crnshfd. 


""i'Juk.ivt.cwiss,"«halinotU 


70 


TAUP-PU  Iv-KEEWISS. 


again  permitted  to  live  on  the  carlii.  I  will  give  you 
thesha[)e  of  the  war-eagle,  and  you  will  be  the  chief  of 
all  fowls,  and  your  duty  shall  be  to  watch  over  their 
destinies." 


» 


OSSEO, 


OR 


THE  SON  OF  THE  EVENING  STAR. 


ALGONQUIN   LEGEND. 


There  once  lived  an  Indian  in  the  north,  wlio  had 
ten  danghters,  all  of  whom  grew  up  to  womanhood. 
They  were  noted  for  their  beauty,  but  especially  Owee- 
nee,  the  youngest,  wlio  was  very  independent  in  her 
way  of  thinking.  She  was  a  great  admirer  of  romantic 
places,  and  paid  very  little  attention  to  the  numerous 
young  men  who  came  to  her  father's  lodge  for  the  pur- 
pose of  seeing  her.  Ilcr  elder  sisters  were  all  solicited 
in  marriage  from  their  parents,  and  one  after  another, 
went  off  to  dwell  in  the  lodges  of  their  husbands,  or 
mothers-in-law,  but  she  would  listen  to  r.-  proposals  of 
the  kind.  At  last  she  married  an  old  ma  )  cnlled  Osseo, 
who  was  scarcely  able  to  walk,  and  was  too  ]>oor  to  have 
things  like  others.  They  jeered  an''  laughed  at  her,  on 
all  sides,  but  she  seemed  to  be  quite  happy,  and  said  to 
them,  "  It  is  my  choice,  and  you  will  sec  in  the  end, 
who  has  acted  the  wiser>t."  Soon  after,  tlie  s'sters  and 
their  husbands  aiul  their  ])arents  were  all  invited  to  a 
feast,  and  as  they  walked  along  the  path,  they  could 
not  help  pitying  their  young  and  handsome  sister,  who 
had  such  uu  uiisuituble  mate.    Osseo  often  stopped  and 


^,  p-' 


72 


OSSEO;    OR, 


"m 


p^azed  upwards,  but  they  could  perceive  nothing  in  the 
direction  he  looked,  unless  it  was  the  faint  glimmering 
of  the  evening  star.  They  heard  him  muttering  to  him- 
self as  they  went  along,  and  one  of  the  elder  sisters  caught 
the  words,  "Sho-wain-ne-me-shin  nosa."*  "Poor  old 
man,"  said  she,  "he  is  talking  to  his  father,  what  a  pity 
it  is,  that  he  would  not  fall  and  break  his  neck,  that 
our  sister  might  have  a  handsome  young  husband."  Pre- 
sently they  passed  a  large  hollow  log,  lying  with  one 
e\id  toward  the  path.  Tiie  moment  Osseo,  who  was  of 
the  turtle  totem,  came  to  it,  he  stopped  short,  uttered 
a  loud  and  peculiar  yell,  and  then  dashing  into  one  end 
of  the  log,  he  came  out  at  the  other,  a  most  beautiful 
young  man,  and  springing  back  to  the  road,  he  led  oif 
the  party  with  steps  as  light  as  the  reindeer,  f  But  on 
turning  round  to  look  for  his  wife,  behold,  she  had  been 
changed  into  an  old,  decrepit  woman,  who  was  bent 
almost  double,  and  walked  with  a  cane.  The  husband, 
however,  treated  her  very  kindly,  as  she  had  done  him 
during  the  time  of  his  enchantment,  and  constantly  ad- 
dressed her  by  the  term  of  ne-ne-moosh-a,  or  my  sweet- 
heart. 

When  they  came  to  the  hunter's  lodge  with  whom 
they  were  to  feast,  they  found  the  feast  ready  prepared, 
and  as  soon  as  their  entertainer  had  finished  his  ha- 
ra'^'ue  (in  which  he  told  them  his  feasting  was  in  honor 
of  the  Evening  or  Woman's  Star),  they  began  to  par- 
take of  the  poriion  dealt  out,  according  to  age  and 
character,  to  cacii  one.  Tlic  food  was  very  delicious, 
and  they  were  ail  happy  but  Osseo,  who  looked  at  his 

*  Pity  me,  my  f.itlior. 

t  The  ('.  HylvoHtriH  ibits  North  America,  nortli  of  lati- 
tude 46  \ 


THE  SON  OF  THE  EVENING  STAR. 


^3 


wife  and  then  gazed  upward,  as  if  he  was  looking  into 
the  substance  of  the  sky.  Sounds  were  soon  heard,  as 
if  from  far-off  voices  in  tlie  air,  and  they  became  plainer 
and  plainer,  till  he  could  clearly  distinguish  some  of 
the  words. 

"My  son — my  son,"  said  the  voice,  'I  have  seen 
your  afflictions  and  pity  your  wants.  I  come  to  call 
you  away  from  a  scene  that  is  stained  with  blood  and 
tears.  The  earth  is  full  of  sorrows.  Giants  and  sor- 
cerers, the  enemies  of  mankind,  walk  abroad  in  it,  and 
are  scattered  throughout  its  length.  Every  night  they 
are  lifting  their  voices  to  the  Power  of  Evil,  and  every 
day  they  make  themselves  busy  in  casting  evil  in  the 
hunter's  i>ath.  You  have  long  been  their  victim,  but 
shall  be  their  victim  no  more.  Tlie  spell  you  were 
under  is  broken.  Your  evil  genius  is  overcome.  I 
have  cast  him  down  by  my  superior  strength,  and  it  is 
this  strength  I  now  exert  for  your  hai)piness.  Ascend, 
my  son — ascend  into  the  skies,  and  partake  of  the  feast 
I  have  prepared  fov  you  in  the  stars,  and  bring  with 
you  those  you  love. 

"  The  food  set  before  you  is  enchanted  and  blessed. 
Fear  not  to  partake  of  it.  It  is  endowed  with  magic 
power  to  give  immortality  to  mortals,  and  to  change 
men  to  spirits.  Your  bowls  and  kettles  siiall  be  no 
longer  wood  and  earth.  The  ono  shall  become  silver, 
and  the  other  wampum.  They  shall  shine  like  lire,  and 
glisten  like  the  most  beautiful  scarlet.  Every  female 
shall  also  change  her  state  and  looks,  and  no  longer  be 
(loomed  to  laborious  tasks.  She  shall  ])ut  on  the 
beauty  of  the  starlight,  and  become  a  shining  bird  of 
the  air,  clothed  with  winning  featliers.  Siie  shall  dance 
and  not  work — she  shall  sing  and  not  cry." 

"My  beams," continued  the  voice,  "shine  faintly  on 
7 


T4 


OSHEO;    UK, 


your  lo(]«^e,  but  they  have  a  power  to  transforni  it 
into  the  lightness  of  the  skies,  and  decorate  it  with  the 
colors  of  the  clouds.  Come,  Osseo,  my  son,  and  dwell 
no  longer  on  earth.  Think  strongly  on  my  words,  and 
look  steadfastly  at  ray  beams.  My  power  is  now  at 
its  height.  Doubt  not — delay  not.  It  is  the  voice  of 
the  Si)irit  of  the  stars  that  calls  you  away  to  happiness 
and  celestial  rest." 

The  words  were  intelligible  to  Osseo,  but  his  com- 
panions thought  them  some  far-off  sounds  of  music,  or 
birds  singing  in  the  woods.  Very  soon  the  lodge  began 
to  shake  and  tremble,  and  they  felt  it  rising  into  the  air. 
It  was  too  late  to  run  out,  for  they  were  already  as  high 
rs  the  tops  of  the  trees.  Osseo  looked  around  him  as 
tlie  lodge  passed  through  the  topmost  boughs,  and 
b  !iold !  their  wooden  dishes  were  changed  into  shells 
'"'f  a  scarlet  color,  the  poles  of  the  lodge  to  gliUering 
vvii'js  of  silver,  and  the  bark  thjit  covered  them  into  the 
gorgeous  wings  of  insects.  A  moment  more,  and  his 
Ijrothers  and  sisters,  and  their  parents  and  friends,  were 
transformed  into  birds  of  various  plumage.  Some  were 
jays,  some  partridges  and  pigeons,  and  others  gay  sing- 
ing birds,  who  hoi)ped  about  displaying  their  glittering 
feathers,  and  singing  their  song.  But  Oweenee  still 
kept  her  earthly  garb,  and  exhibited  all  the  indications 
of  extreme  age.  He  again  cast  his  eyes  in  the  direction 
of  the  clouds,  and  uttered  that  peculiar  yell,  which  had 
given  him  the  victory  at  the  hollow  log.  In  a  moment 
the  youth  and  beauty  of  his  wife  returned ;  her  dingy 
garments  assumed  the  -  inirz;  appearance  of  green  silk, 
and  her  cane  was  chii'i'ved  into  a^ii^er  feather.  The 
lodge  again  shook  auu  trembled,  for  they  were  now 
juissing  through  the  uppermost  clouds,  and  they  imnie- 


THE  SON  OF  THE  EVENING  STAR. 


T5 


diatcly  after  foniul  themselves  iu  the  Evening  Star,  the 
residence  of  Osseo's  father. 

"  My  son,"  said  the  old  man,  "hang  that  cage  of  birds, 
which  you  huve  brought  along  in  your  hand,  at  the  door, 
and  I  will  inform  you  why  you  and  your  wife  have  been 
sent  for."  Osseo  obeyed  the  directions,  and  then  took 
his  seat  iu  the  lodge.  "Pity  was  shown  to  you,"  re- 
sumed the  king  of  the  star,  "on  account  of  the  contempt 
of  your  wife's  sister,  who  laughed  at  her  ill  fortune,  and 
ridiculed  you  while  you  were  under  the  power  of  that 
wicked  spirit,  whom  you  overcame  at  the  log.  That 
spirit  lives  in  the  next  lodge,  being  a  small  star  you  see 
on  the  left  of  mine,  and  he  has  always  felt  envious  of  my 
family,  because  we  had  greater  power  than  he  had,  and 
especially  on  account  of  our  having  had  the  care  com- 
mitted to  us  of  the  female  world.  lie  failed  in  several 
attempts  to  destroy  your  brothers-in-law  and  sisters-in- 
law,  but  succeeded  at  last  in  transforming  yourself  and 
your  wife  into  decrepit  old  persons.  You  nmst  be  care- 
ful and  not  let  the  light  of  his  beams  fall  on  you,  while 
you  are  here,  for  therein  is  the  power  of  his  enchant- 
ment ;  a  ray  of  light  is  the  bow  and  arrows  he  uses." 

Osseo  lived  happy  and  contented  in  the  parental 
lodge,  and  in  due  time  his  wife  presented  him  with  a 
son,  who  grew  up  rapidly,  and  was  the  image  of  his 
father.  He  was  very  quick  pnd  ready  in  learning  every- 
thing that  was  done  in  his  grandfather's  dominions, 
but  he  wished  also  to  lea?'n  the  art  of  hunting,  for  he 
had  heard  that  this  was  a  favorite  pursuit  below.  To 
gratify  him,  his  father  made  him  a  bow  and  arrows,  and 
he  then  let  the  birds  out  of  the  cage  that  he  might 
l)ractise  in  shooting.  lie  soon  became  expert,  and  the 
very  first  day  brought  down  a  bird,  but  when  he  went 
to  pick  it  up,  to  his  amazement,  it  was  a  beautiful  young 


« 


•76 


OSSEO ; 


OR,  THE  SON  OF  THE  EVENING  STAR. 


woman  with  the  arrow  sticking  in  her  breast.  It  was 
one  of  his  younger  aunts.  The  moment  her  blood  fell 
upon  the  surface  of  that  pure  and  spotless  planet,  the 
charm  was  dissolved.  The  boy  immediately  found  him- 
self sinking,  but  was  partly  upheld,  by  something  like 
wings,  till  he  passed  through  the  lower  clouds,  and  he 
then  suddenly  dropped  upon  a  high,  romantic  island  in 
a  large  lake.  He  was  pleased  on  looking  up,  to  see  all 
his  aunts  and  uncles  following  him  in  the  form  of  birds, 
and  he  soon  discovered  the  silver  lodge,  with  his  father 
and  mother,  descending  with  its  waving  barks  looking 
like  so  iiiany  insects'  gilded  wings.  It  rested  on  the 
highest  cliffs  of  the  island,  and  here  they  fixed  their 
residence.  They  all  resumed  their  natural  shapes,  but 
were  diminished  to  the  size  of  fairies ;  as  a  mark  of 
homage  to  the  King  of  the  Evening  Star,  they  never 
failed,  on  every  pleasant  evening,  during  the  summer 
season,  to  join  hands,  and  dance  upon  the  top  of  the 
rocks.  These  rocks  were  quickly  observed  by  the 
Indians  to  be  covered,  in  moonlight  evenings,  with  a 
larger  sort  of  Puk  Wudj  Ininees,  or  little  men,  and 
were  called  Mish-in-e-mok-in-ok-ong,  or  turtle  spirits, 
and  the  island  is  named  from  them  to  this  day.*  Their 
shining  lodge  can  be  seen  in  the  summer  evenings  when 
the  moon  shines  strongly  on  the  pinnacles  of  ihe  rocks, 
and  the  fishermen,  who  go  near  those  high  cliffs  at 
night,  have  even  heard  the  voices  of  the  happy  little 
dancers. 


■*  Mickilimackinac,  tlio  term  alludod  to,  is  tlio  original  French 
orthography  of  Misii  en  i  mok  in  oxc,  tho  local  form  (sing,  and 
plu.),  of  Turtle  Spirits. 


KWA8IND, 


OR 


THE  FEARFULLY  STRONG  MAN. 


Pauwattng*  was  a  villaj^e  where  the  young  men 
amused  themselves  very  much  in  ancient  times,  in  sports 
and  ball-playing. 

One  day,  as  they  were  engaged  in  their  sports,  one  of 
the  strongest  and  most  active,  at  the  moment  he  was 
about  to  succeed  in  a  trial  of  lifting,  slipped  and  fell 
upon  his  back.  "Hal  hal  ha  !"  cried  the  lookers-on, 
"  you  will  never  rival  Kwasind."  He  was  deeply  mor- 
tified, and  when  the  sport  was  over,  these  words  came 
to  his  mind.  He  could  not  recollect  any  man  of  this 
name.  He  thought  he  would  ask  the  old  m.an,  the 
story-teller  of  the  village,  the  next  time  he  came  to  the 
lodge.     The  opportunity  soon  occurred. 

"  My  grandfather,"  said  he,  "  who  was  Kwasind  ? 
I  am  very  anxious  to  know  what  he  could  do." 

"  Kwasind,"  the  old  man  replied,  "  was  a  listless  idle 
boy.  He  would  not  play  when  the  other  boys  played,  and 
his  parents  could  never  get  him  to  do  any  kind  of  labor. 
He  was  always  making  excuses.      His  parents   took 


1^ 


m 


*  /.  c.  I'lncc!  of  shallow  cntarnct,  named  Saiilt  tie  Sfr.  Afarie 
on  the  arrival  of  tho  Freiicli.  Thiri  is  the  hc(d  form  of  the 
wor<l,  the  substantive  i)roi)er  terminates  in  eeo. 

7* 


IS 


kwasind;  or, 


notice,  however,  that  he  fasted  for  days  together,  but 
they  coukl  not  learn  what  spirit  he  supplicated,  or 
had  chosen  as  the  guardian  si)irit  to  attend  him 
througli  life.  He  was  so  inattentive  to  his  parents' 
requests,  that  he,  at  last,  became  a  subject  of  reproach. 

"  *  Ah,'  said  his  mother  to  him  one  day,  '  is  there  any 
young  man  of  your  age,  in  all  the  village,  who  does  so 
little  for  his  parents  ?  You  neither  hunt  nor  fish.  You 
take  no  interest  in  anything,  whether  labor  or  amuse- 
ment, which  engages  the  at  ention  of  your  equals  in 
years.  I  have  often  set  my  nets*  in  the  coldest  days 
of  winter,  without  any  assistance  from  you.  And  I 
have  taken  them  up  again,  while  you  remained  inactive 
at  the  lodge  tire.  Are  you  not  ashamed  of  such  idle- 
ness ?  Go,  I  bid  you,  and  wring  out  that  net,  which  I 
have  just  taken  from  the  water.' 

"  Kwasind  saw  that  there  was  a  determination  to  make 
him  obey.  lie  did  not,  therefore,  make  any  excuses, 
but  went  out  and  took  up  the  net.  He  carefully  folded 
it,  doubled  and  redoubled  it,  forming  it  into  a  roll,  and 
then  with  an  easy  twist  of  his  hands  wrung  it  short  off, 
with  as  much  e;ise  as  if  every  twine  had  been  a  thin 
brittle  fibre.  Hore  they  at  once  saw  the  secret  of  his 
reluctance.     He  possessed  supernatural  strength. 

"After  this,  the  young  men  were  playing  one  day  on 
the  plain,  where  there  was  lying  one  of  those  large, 
heavy,  black  pieces  of  rock,  which  Manabozho  is  said 
to  have  cast  ac  his  father.  Kwasind  took  it  up  with 
much  ease,  and  threw  it  into  the  river.  After  this,  he 
accompanied  his  father  on  a  hunting  excursion  into  a 
remote  forest.     They  came  to  a  place  where  the  wind 


*  Nets  are  st  t  in  winter  in  liigli  northern  latitude? ,  through 
or! fifes  cut  in  tlie  ice. 


THE  FEARFULLY  STUONQ  MAN. 


79 


had  thrown  a  great  many  trees  into  a  narrow  pass. 
'  We  must  go  the  other  way/  said  the  old  man,  '  it  is 
impossible  to  get  the  burdens  through  this  place.'  He 
sat  down  to  rest  himself,  took  out  his  smoking  appa- 
ratus, and  gave  a  short  time  to  reflection.  When  he 
had  finished,  Kwasind  had  lifted  away  the  largest  piue 
trees,  and  pulled  them  out  of  the  path. 

"  Sailing  one  day  in  his  canoe,  Kwasind  saw  a  large 
furred  animal,  which  he  immediately  recognized  to  be 
the  king  of  beavers.  He  plunged  into  the  water  in 
pursuit  of  it.  His  companions  were  in  the  greatest 
astonishment  and  alarm,  ;  >osing  he  would  perish. 
He  often  dove  down  and  ni  .ed  a  long  time  under 
water,  pursuing  the  animal  from  island  to  island  ;  and 
at  last  returned  with  the  kingly  prize.  After  this,  his 
fame  spread  far  and  wide,  and  no  hunter  would  presume 
to  compete  with  him. 

"  He  helped  Manabozho  to  clear  away  the  obstruc- 
tions in  the  streams,  and  to  remove  the  great  wind-falls 
of  trees  from  the  valleys,  the  better  to  fit  them  for  the 
residence  of  man. 

"He  performed  so  many  feats  of  strength  and  skill, 
that  he  excited  the  envy  of  the  Puck-wudj  lu-in-ee-sug, 
or  fairies,  who  conspired  against  his  life.  '  For,'  said 
they,  *  if  this  man  is  suffered  to  go  on,  in  his  career  of 
strength  and  exploits,  we  shall  presently  have  no  work 
to  perform.  Our  agency  in  the  affairs  of  men  must 
cease.  He  will  undermine  our  power,  and  drive  us,  at 
last,  into  the  water,  where  we  must  all  perish,  or  be  de- 
voured by  the  wicked  Neebanawbaig.'* 

"  The  strength  of  Kwasind  was  all  concentrated  in 
the  crown  of  his  head.     This  was,  at  the  same  time,  the 


*  A  kiii<l  of  water  Hi)iritfi. 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


13  WIST  MAIN  STRIIT 

WIUTIR.N.Y.  USM 

(7U)I73-4S03 


80      kwasind;  or,  the  fearfully  strong  man. 

only  vulnerable  part  of  his  body ;  and  there  was  but 
one  species  of  weapon  which  could  be  successfully  em- 
ployed in  making  any  impression  upon  it.  The  fairies 
carefully  hunted  through  the  woods  to  find  this  weapon. 
It  was  the  burr  or  seed  vessel  of  the  white  pine.  They 
gathered  a  quantity  of  this  article,  and  waylaid  Kwa- 
sind at  a  point  on  the  river,  where  the  red  rocks  jut 
into  the  water,  forming  rude  castles — a  point  which  he 
was  accustomed  to  pass  in  his  canoe.  They  waited  a 
long  time,  making  merry  upon  these  rocks,  for  it  was  a 
highly  romantic  spot.  At  last  the  wished -for  object 
appeared;  Kwasind  came  floating  calmly  down  the 
stream,  on  the  afternoon  of  a  summer's  day,  languid 
with  the  heat  of  the  weather,  and  almost  asleep.  When 
his  canoe  came  directly  beneath  the  cliff,  the  tallest 
and  stoutest  fairy  began  the  attack.  Others  followed 
his  example.  It  was  a  long  time  before  they  could  hit 
the  vulnerable  part,  but  success  at  length  crowned 
their  efforts,  and  Kwasind  sunk,  never  to  rise  more. 

"  Ever  since  this  victory,  the  Puck  Wudj  Ininee  have 
made  that  point  of  rock  a  favorite  resort.  The  hunters 
often  hear  them  laugh,  and  see  their  little  plumes 
shake  as  they  pass  this  scene  on  light  summer  evenings. 

"My  son,"  continued  the  old  man,  "take  care  that 
you  do  not  imitate  the  faults  of  Kwasind.  If  he  had 
not  so  often  exerted  his  strength  merely  for  the  sake  of 
boasfitu/,  he  would  not,  perhaps,  have  made  the  fairies 
feel  jealous  of  him.  It  is  better  to  use  the  strength 
you  have,  in  a  quiet  useful  way,  thnn  to  sigh  after  the 
possession  of  a  giant's  power.  For  if  you  run,  or 
wrestle,  or  jump,  or  fire  at  a  mark,  only  as  well  nsyour 
equals  in  years,  nobody  will  envy  you.  IJut  if  you 
would  needs  be  a  Kwasind,  you  must  expect  a  Kwa- 
sind's  fate." 


THE  JEEBI, 


OR 


TWO  GHOSTS. 


FROM   THE   ODJIBWA. 


There  lived  a  hunter  in  the  north  who  had  a  wife 
and  one  diild.  Ilis  lod<»:c  stood  far  off  in  the  forest, 
several  days'  journey  from  any  other.  lie  spent  his 
days  in  hunting,  and  his  evenings  in  relating  to  his 
wife  the  incidents  that  had  befallen  him.  As  game 
was  very  abundant,  he  found  no  difficulty  in  killing  as 
much  as  they  wanted.  Just  in  all  his  acts,  he  lived  a 
peaceful  and  happy  life. 

One  evening  during  the  winter  season,  it  chanced  that 
he  remained  out  later  than  usual,  and  his  wife  began 
to  feel  uneasy,  for  fear  some  accident  had  befallen  him. 
It  was  already  dark.  She  listened  attentively,  and  at 
last  heard  the  sound  of  ni)proaching  footstei)s.  Not 
doubting  it  was  her  husband,  she  went  to  the  door  and 
beheld  two  strange  females.  She  bade  them  enter,  and 
invited  them  to  remain. 

She  observed  that  they  were  total  strangers  in  the 
country.  There  was  something  so  peculiar  in  their 
looks,  air,  and  manner,  that  she  was  uneasy  in  their 
company.  They  would  not  come  near  the  lire;  they 
sat  in  a  ren.otc  part  of  tiie  lodge,  were  shy  and  taciturn, 


■   1 


82 


THE  JEEBI;   OR, 


aiul  drew  tlicir  g;arinents  about  tlicm  in  sucli  a  manner 
as  nearly  to  hide  their  faces.  So  fiir  as  she  coukl  judge, 
they  were  pale,  hollow-eyed,  and  long-visaged,  very 
thin  and  emaciated.  There  was  but  little  light  in  the 
lodge,  as  the  fire  was  low,  and  served  by  its  fitful  flashes, 
rather  to  increase  than  dispel  their  fears.  "Merciful 
spirit  I"  cried  a  voice  from  the  opposite  part  of  the 
lodge,  "there  are  two  corpvses  clothed  with  garments." 
The  hunter's  wife  turned  around,  but  seeing  nobody, 
she  concluded  the  sounds  were  but  gusts  of  wind.  She 
trembled,  and  was  ready  to  sink  to  the  earth. 

Her  husband  at  this  moment  entered  and  dispelled 
Ler  fears.  He  threw  down  the  carcass  of  a  large  fat 
deer.  "Behold  what  a  fine  and  fat  animal,"  cried  the 
mysterious  females,  and  they  immediately  ran  and  pulled 
olf  pieces  of  the  whitest  fat,*  which  they  ate  with  greedi- 
ness. The  hunter  and  his  wife  looked  on  with  astonish- 
ment, but  remained  silent.  Tiiey  supposed  their  guests 
might  have  been  famished.  Next  day,  however,  the 
same  unusual  conduct  was  repeated.  The  strange  fe- 
males tore  off  the  fat  and  devoured  it  with  eagerness. 
The  third  day  the  hunter  thought  he  would  anticipate 
their  wants  by  tying  up  a  portion  of  the  fattest  pieces 
for  them,  which  he  placed  on  the  top  of  his  load.  They 
accepted  it,  but  still  appeared  dissatisfied,  and  \vcnt  to 
the  wife's  portion  and  tore  oif  more.  Tlie  man  and  his 
wife  felt  surprised  at  such  rude  and  unaccountable  con- 
duct, but  they  remained  silent,  for  they  respected  their 
guests,  and  had  observed  that  they  had  hvc  'tended 
with  marked  good  luck  during  the  resident.  A  these 
mysterious  visitors. 


*  Tho  fat  of  animals  is  cstoemetl  hy  the  N.  A.  Indians  among 
the  choioi'st  parts. 


TWO  (i HOSTS. 


Ill  other  respects,  the  dcportmeut  of  the  females  was 
strictly  unexceptionable.  They  were  modest,  distant, 
and  silent.  They  never  uttered  a  word  during  the  day. 
At  night  they  would  occupy  themselves  in  procuring 
wood,  which  they  carried  to  the  lodge,  and  then  return- 
ing the  implements  exactly  to  the  places  in  which  they 
had  found  them,  resume  their  places  without  speaking. 
They  were  never  known  to  stay  out  until  daylight. 
They  never  laughed  or  jested. 

The  winter  had  nearly  passed  away,  without  anything 
uncommon  happening,  when,  one  evening,  the  hunter 
stayed  out  very  late.  The  moment  he  entered  and  laid 
down  his  day's  hunt  as  usual  before  his  wife,  the  two 
females  began  to  tear  off  the  fat,  in  so  unceremonious  a 
way,  that  her  anger  was  excited.  She  constrained  her- 
self, however,  in  a  measure,  but  did  not  conceal  her 
feelings,  although  she  said  but  little.  The  gnests  ob- 
served the  excited  state  of  her  mind,  and  became  unusu- 
ally reserved  and  uneasy.  The  good  hunter  saw  the 
change,  and  carefully  inquired  into  the  cause,  but  his 
wife  denied  having  used  any  hard  words.  They  retired 
to  their  couches,  and  he  tried  to  compose  himself  to 
sleep,  but  could  not,  for  the  sobs  and  sighs  of  the  two 
females  were  incessant.  lie  arose  on  his  couch  and 
addressed  them  as  follows : — 

"Tell  me,"  said  he,  "what  is  it  that  gives  you  pain 
of  mind,  and  causes  you  to  utter  those  sighs,  lias  my 
wife  given  you  offence,  or  trespassed  on  the  rights  of 
hospitality  ?" 

They  replied  in  the  negative.  "We  have  been  treated 
by  you  with  kindness  and  affection.  It  is  not  for  any 
sli"jht  we  have  received  that  we  weep.  Our  mission  is 
not  to  you  only.  We  come  from  the  land  of  the  dead 
to  test  mankind,  and  to  try  tiie  sincerity  of  the  living. 


•I 


1 


i 


84 


THE  JEEBI ;    OR,  TWO  GHOSTS. 


n 


I  * 


rl^- 


Often  we  have  heard  the  bereaved  by  death  say  that  if 
the  dead  could  be  restored,  they  would  devote  their 
lives  to  make  them  happy.  "We  have  been  moved  by 
the  bitter  lamentations  which  have  reached  the  place  of 
the  dead,  and  have  come  to  make  proof  of  the  sincerity 
of  those  who  have  lost  friends.  Three  moons  were  al- 
lotted us  by  the  Master  of  life  to  make  the  trial.  More 
than  half  the  time  had  been  successfully  past,  when  the 
angry  feelings  of  your  wife  indicated  the  irksomeness 
you  felt  at  our  presence,  and  has  made  us  resolve  on 
our  departure." 

They  continued  to  talk  to  the  hunter  and  his  wife, 
gave  them  instructions  as  to  a  future  life,  and  pro- 
nounced a  blessing  upon  them. 

"  There  is  one  point,"  they  added,  "  of  which  we  wish 
to  spet)-k.  You  have  thought  our  conduct  very  strange 
in  rudely  possessing  ourselves  of  the  choicest  parts  of 
your  hunt.  That  was  the  point  of  trial  selected  to  put 
you  to.  It  is  the  wife's  peculiar  privilege.  For  another 
to  usurp  it,  we  knew  to  be  the  severest  trial  of  her,  and 
consequently  of  your  temper  and  feelings.  We  know 
your  manners  and  customs,  but  we  came  to  prove  you, 
not  by  a  compliance  with  them,  but  a  violation  of  them. 
Pardon  us.  We  are  the  agents  of  him  who  sent  us. 
Peace  to  your  dwelling,  adieu!" 

When  they  ceased,  total  darkness  filled  the  lodge. 
No  object  could  be  seen.  The  inmates  heard  the  door 
open  and  shut,  but  they  never  saw  more  of  the  two 
Jeebi-uo. 

The  hunter  found  the  success  which  they  had  promised. 
He  became  celebrated  in  the  chase,  and  never  wanted 
for  anything.  He  had  many  children,  all  of  whom 
grew  up  to  manliood,  and  health  ;  peace,  and  long  life 
were  the  rewards  of  his  hospitality. 


lAGOO. 

CHIPPEWA. 


Iaooo  is  the  name  of  a  personage  noted  in  Indian 
lore  for  having  given  extravagant  narrations  of  what- 
ever he  had  seen,  heard,  or  accomplished.  It  seems 
that  he  always  saw  extraordinary  things,  made  extra- 
ordinary journeys,  and  performed  extraordinary  feats. 
He  could  not  look  out  of  his  lodge  and  see  things  as  other 
men  did.  If  he  described  a  bird,  it  had  a  most  singular 
variety  of  brilliant  plumage.  The  animals  he  met  with 
were  all  of  the  monstrous  kind ;  they  had  eyes  like  orbs 
of  fire,  and  claws  like  hooks  of  steel,  and  could  step 
over  the  top  of  an  Indian  lodge.  He  told  of  a  serpent 
he  had  seen,  which  had  hair  on  its  neck  like  a  mane, 
and  feet  resembling  a  quadruped;  and  if  one  were  to 
take  his  own  account  of  his  exploits  and  observations, 
it  would  be  difficult  to  decide  whether  his  strength,  his 
activity,  or  his  wisdom  should  be  most  admired. 

lagoo  did  not  appear  to  have  been  endowed  with  the 
ordinary  faculties  of  other  men.  His  eyes  appeared  to 
be  magnifiers,  and  the  tympanum  of  his  cars  so  con- 
structed that  what  appeared  to  common  observers  to  be 
but  the  sound  of  a  zephyr,  to  him  had  a  far  closer  re- 
semblance to  the  noise  of  tliunder.  His  imagination 
appeared  to  l^e  of  so  exuberant  a  character,  that  he 
scarcely  required  more  than  a  drop  of  water  to  construct 
8 


"*  I 


i 


86 


lAGOO. 


an  ocean,  or  a  grain  of  sand  to  form  the  earth.  And  he 
had  so  happy  an  exemption  from  both  the  restraints  of 
judgment  and  moral  accountability,  that  he  never  found 
the  slightest  difficulty  in  accommodating  his  facts  to  the 
most  enlarged  credulity.  Nor  was  his  ample  thirst  for 
the  marvel  Ions  ever  quenched  by  attempts  to  reconcile 
statements  the  most  strange,  unaccountable,  and  pre- 
posterous. 

Such  was  lagoo,  the  Indian  story-teller,  whose  name 
is  associated  with  all  that  is  extravagant  and  marvel- 
lous, and  has  long  been  established  in  the  hunter's 
vocabulary  as  a  perfect  synonym  for  liar,  and  is  bandied 
about  as  a  familiar  proverb.  If  a  hunter  or  warrior,  in 
telling  his  exploits,  undertakes  to  embellish  them ;  to 
overrate  his  merits,  or  in  any  other  way  to  excite  the 
incredulity  of  his  hearers,  he  is  liable  to  be  rebuked  with 
the  remark,  "So  here  we  have  lagoo  come  again." 
And  he  seems  to  hold  the  relative  rank  in  oral  narra- 
tion which  our  written  literature  awards  to  Baron 
Munchausen,  Jack  Fal&taflF,  and  Captain  Lemuel  Gul- 
liver. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  there  are  but  a  few  scraps  of 
his  actual  stories  to  be  found,  lie  first  attracted  notice 
by  giving  an  account  of  a  water  lily,  a  single  leaf  of 
which,  he  averred,  was  sufficient  to  make  a  petticoat 
and  upper  garments  for  his  wife  and  daughter.  One 
evening  he  was  sitting  in  his  lodge,  on  the  banks  of  a 
river,  and  hearing  the  quacking  of  ducks  on  the  stream, 
he  fired  through  the  lodge  door  at  a  venture.  He  killed 
a  swan  that  happened  to  be  flying  by,  and  twenty  brace 
of  ducks  in  the  stream.  But  this  did  not  check  the 
force  of  his  shot ;  they  passed  on,  and  struck  the  heads 
of  two  loons,  at  the  moment  they  were  coming  up  from 
beneath  the  water,  aud  even  went  beyond  and  killed  a 


lAOOO. 


8T 


most  extraordinary  large  fish  called  Moshkeenozha.'** 
On  another  occasion  he  had  killed  a  deer,  and  alter 
skinning  it,  was  carrying  the  carcass  on  his  shoulders, 
when  he  spied  some  stately  elks  on  the  plain  before 
him.  He  immediately  gave  them  chase,  and  had  run, 
over  hill  and  dale,  a  distance  of  half  a  day's  travel,  be- 
fore he  recollected  that  he  had  the  deer's  carcass  on  his 
shoulders. 

One  day,  as  he  was  passing  over  a  tract  of  mushkeeg 
or  bog-land,  he  saw  musquitoes  of  such  enormous  size, 
that  he  staked  his  reputation  on  the  fact  that  a  single 
wing  of  one  of  the  insects  was  sufficient  for  a  sail  to  his 
canoe,  and  the  proboscis  as  big  as  his  wife's  shovel. 
But  he  was  favored  with  a  still  more  extraordinary  sight, 
in  a  gigantic  ant,  which  passed  him,  as  he  was  watching 
a  beaver's  lodge,  dragging  the  entire  carcass  of  a  hare. 

At  another  time,  for  he  was  ever  seeing  or  doing 
something  wonderful,  he  got  out  of  Sijoking  weed,  and 
in  going  into  the  woods  in  search  of  some,  he  discovered 
a  bunch  of  the  red  willow,  or  maple  bush,  of  such  a 
luxuriant  growth,  that  he  was  industriously  occupied 
half  a  day  walking  round  it. 


*  TL.0  muscalunge. 


SIIAWONDASEK 


FROM  THE  MYTHOLOGY  OF  THE  ODJIBWAS. 


\ 


if 


MuDJEKEWis  and  nine  brothers  eonqnered  the  Mam- 
moth Bear,  and  obtained  the  Sacred  Belt  of  Wampum, 
the  great  object  of  previous  warlike  enterprise,  and  the 
great  means  of  happiness  to  men.  The  chief  honor  of 
this  achievement  was  awarded  to  Mudjekewis,  the 
youngest  of  the  ten,  who  received  the  government  of  the 
West  Winds.  lie  is  therefore  called  Kabeyun,  the 
father  of  the  winds.  To  his  son,  Wabun,  he  gave  the 
East;  to  Siiawondasee,  the  south,  and  to  Kabibo- 
NOKKA,  the  north.  Manabozho  being  an  illegitimate 
son,  was  left  unprovided.  When  he  grew  up,  and  ob- 
tained the  secret  of  his  birth,  he  went  to  war  against 
his  father,  Kabeyun,  and  having  brought  the  latter  to 
terms,  he  received  the  government  of  the  Northwest 
Winds,  ruling  jointly  with  his  brother  Kabibonokka 
the  tempests  from  that  quarter  of  the  heavens. 

Shawondasee  is  represented  as  an  affluent,  plethoric 
old  man,  who  has  grown  unwieldy  from  repletion,  and 
seldom  moves.  He  keeps  his  eyes  steadfastly  fixed  on 
the  north.  When  he  sighs,  in  autumn,  we  have  those 
balmy  southern  airs,  which  communicate  warmth  and 
delight  over  the  northern  hemisphere,  and  make  the 
Indian  Summer. 

One  day,  while  gazing  toward  the  north,  he  beheld 


SIIAWONDASEE. 


89 


a  beautiful  young  woman  of  slender  and  majestic  form, 
standing  on  the  plains.  She  api)cared  in  the  same 
place  for  several  days,  but  what  most  attracted  his  ad- 
miration, was  her  bright  and  flowing  locks  of  yellow 
hair.  Ever  dilatory,  however,  he  contented  himself 
with  gazing.  At  length  he  saw,  or  fancied  he  saw, 
her  head  enveloped  in  a  pure  white  mass  like  snow. 
This  excited  his  jealousy  toward  his  brother  Kabibo- 
nokka,  and  he  threw  out  a  succession  of  short  and  rapid 
sighs — when  lo  I  the  air  was  filled  with  light  filaments 
of  a  silvery  hue,  but  the  object  of  his  afi'ections  had  for 
ever  vanished.  In  reality,  the  southern  airs  had 
blown  off  the  fine-winged  seed-vessels  of  the  prairie 
dandelion. 

"My  son,"  said  the  narrator,  "  it  is  not  wise  to  differ 
in  our  tastes  from  other  people  ;  nor  ought  we  to  put 
off,  through  slothfulness,  what  is  best  done  at  once. 
Had  Shawondasee  conformed  to  the  tastes  of  his  coun- 
trymen, he  would  not  have  been  an  admirer  of  yellow 
hair ;  and  if  he  had  evinced  a  proper  activity  in  his 
youth,  his  mind  would  not  have  run  flower-gathering 
in  his  age." 


.#■1 


8* 


rUCK  WUDJ  ININEES, 


OB 


THE  VANISHING  LITTLE  MEN. 


AN  ODJIBWA  MYTH  OF  FAIRIES. 


I 


I 


There  was  a  time  when  all*  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth  had  died,  excepting  two  helpless  children,  a  baby 
boy  and  a  little  girl.  When  their  parents  died,  these 
children  were  asleep.  The  little  girl,  who  was  the 
elder,  was  the  first  to  wake.  She  looked  around  her, 
but  seeing  nobody  besides  her  little  brother,  who  lay 
asleep,  she  quietly  resumed  her  bed.  At  the  end  of  ten 
days  her  brother  moved  without  opening  his  eyes.  At 
the  end  of  ten  days  more  he  changed  his  position,  lying 
on  the  other  side. 

The  girl  soon  grew  up  to  woman's  estate,  bnt  the 
boy  increased  in  stature  very  slowly.  It  was  a  long 
time  before  he  could  even  creep.  When  he  was  able 
to  walk,  his  sister  made  him  a  little  bow  and  arrows, 
and  suspended  around  his  neck  a  small  shell,  saying, 
you  shall  be  called  Wa-Dais-Ais-Imid,  or  He  of  the 
Little  Shell.  Every  day  he  would  go  out  with  his  lit- 
tle bow,  shooting  at  the  small  birds.  The  first  bird  he 
killed  was  a  tomtit.  His  sister  was  highly  pleased  when 
he  took  it  to  her.     She  carefully  skinned  and  stuffed  it, 


PUCK  WUDJ  ININEES;   OR,  VANlsniNG  LITTLE  MEN.      91 


and  put  it  away  for  him.  Tlic  next  clay  he  killed  a  red 
squirrel.  His  sister  preserved  this  too.  The  third  day 
he  killed  a  partridge  (Pecna),  whieh  she  stuffed  and  set 
up.  After  this,  he  acquired  more  courage,  and  would 
venture  some  distance  from  home.  His  skill  and  suc- 
cess as  a  hunter  daily  increased,  and  he  killed  the  deer, 
bear,  moose,  and  other  large  animals  inhabiting  the 
forest.     In  fine  he  became  a  great  hunter. 

He  had  now  arrived  to  maturity  of  years,  but  re- 
mained a  perfect  infant  in  stature.  One  day,  walking 
about,  he  came  to  a  small  lake.  It  was  in  the  winter 
season.  He  saw  a  man  on  the  ice  killing  beavers.  He 
appeared  to  be  a  giant.  Comparing  himself  to  this 
great  man  he  appeared  no  bigger  than  an  insect.  He 
seated  himself  on  the  shore,  and  watched  his  movements. 
When  the  large  man  had  killed  many  beavers,  he  put 
them  on  a  hand  sled  which  he  had,  and  pursued  his 
way  home.  When  he  saw  him  retire,  he  followed  him, 
and  wielding  his  magic  shell,  cut  off  the  tail  of  one  of 
the  beavers,  and  ran  home  with  his  trophy.  When  the 
tall  stranger  reached  his  lodge,  with  his  sled  load  of 
beavers,  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  tail  of  one  of  them 
gone,  for  he  had  not  observed  the  movements  of  the 
little  hero  of  the  shell. 

The  next  day  Wa-Dis-Ais-Imtd,  went  to  the  same 
lake.  The  man  had  already  fixed  his  load  of  beavers 
on  his  odaw'hon,  or  sled,  and  commenced  his  return. 
But  he  nimbly  ran  forward,  and  overtaking  him,  suc- 
ceeded, by  the  same  means,  in  securing  another  of  the 
beaver's  tails.  When  the  man  saw  that  he  had  lost 
another  of  this  most  esteemed  part  of  the  animal,  he 
was  very  angry.  I  wonder,  said  he,  what  dog  it  is, 
that  has  thus  cheated  me.  Could  I  meet  him,  I  would 
make  his  Ocsh  quiver  at  the  point  of  my  lance.     Next 


92 


PUCK  WUDJ  ININEES;   OR, 


day  he  pursued  his  hunting  at  the  beaver  dam  near  the 
lake,  and  was  followed  again  by  the  little  man  of  the 
shell.  On  this  occasion  the  hunter  had  used  so  much 
expedition,  that  he  had  accomplished  his  object,  and 
nearly  reached  his  home,  before  our  tiny  hero  could 
overtake  him.  He  nimbly  drew  his  shell  and  cut  off 
another  beaver's  tail.  In  all  these  pranks,  he  availed 
himself  of  his  power  of  invisibility,  and  thus  escaped 
observation.  When  the  man  saw  that  the  trick  had 
been  so  often  repeated,  his  anger  was  greater  than  ever. 
He  gave  vent  to  his  feelings  in  words.  He  looked 
carefully  around  to  see  whether  he  could  discover  any 
tracks.  But  he  could  find  none.  His  unknown  visitor 
had  stepped  so  lightly  as  to  leave  no  track. 

Next  day  he  resolved  to  disappoint  him  by  going  to 
his  beaver  pond  very  early.  When  Wa-Dais-Ais-Imid 
reached  the  place,  he  found  the  fresh  traces  of  his  work, 
but  he  had  already  returned.  He  followed  his  tracks, 
but  failed  to  overtake  him.  When  he  came  in  sight 
of  the  lodge  the  stranger  was  ia  front  of  it,  employed 
in  skinning  his  beavers.  As  he  stood  looking  at  him, 
he  thought,  I  will  let  him  see  me.  Presently  the  man, 
who  proved  to  be  no  less  a  personage  than  Manabozho, 
looked  up  and  saw  him.  After  regarding  him  with 
attention,  "  Who  are  you,  little  man,"  said  Manabozho. 
"  I  have  a  mind  to  kill  you."  The  little  hero  of  the 
shell  replied,  "  If  you  were  to  try  to  kill  me  you  could 
not  do  it." 

When  he  returned  home  he  told  his  sister  that  they 
must  separate.  "  I  must  go  away,"  said  he,  "  it  is  my 
fate.  You  too,"  he  added,  "  must  go  away  soon.  Tell 
me  where  you  would  wish  to  dwell."  She  said.  "  I 
would  like  to  go  to  the  place  of  the  breaking  of  day- 
liglit.     I  have  always  loved  the  cast.     The  earliest 


1 


THE  VANISniNG  LITTLE  MEN. 


93 


glimpses  of  light  are  from  that  quarter,  and  it  is,  to 
my  mind,  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  heavens.  After 
I  get  there,  my  brother,  whenever  you  see  the  clouds 
in  that  direction  of  various  colors,  you  may  think  that 
your  sister  is  painting  her  face." 

"And  I," said  he,  "my  sister,  shall  live  on  the  moun- 
tains and  rocks.  There  I  can  see  you  at  the  earliest 
hour,  and  there  the  streams  of  water  are  clear,  and  the 
air  pure.  And  I  shall  ever  be  called  Puck  Wudj  Ini- 
NEE,  or  the  little  wild  man  of  the  mountains." 

"But,"  he  resumed,  "  before  we  part  forever,  I  must 
go  and  try  to  find  some  Manitoes."  He  left  her,  and 
travelled  over  the  surface  of  the  globe,  and  then  went 
far  down  into  the  earth.  He  had  been  treated  well 
wherever  he  went.  At  last  he  found  a  giant  Manito, 
who  had  a  large  kettle  which  was  forever  boiling.  The 
giant  regarded  him  with  a  stern  look,  and  then  took 
him  up  in  his  hand,  and  threw  him  unceremoniously 
into  the  kettle.  But  by  the  protection  of  his  personal 
spirit,  he  was  shielded  from  harm,  and  with  much  ado 
got  out  of  it  and  escaped.  He  returned  to  his  sister, 
and  related  his  rovings  and  misadventures.  He  finished 
his  story  by  addressing  her  thus  :  "  My  sister,  tliere  is 
a  Manito,  at  each  of  the  four  corners  of  the  earth.* 
There  is  also  one  above  them,  far  in  the  sky;  and  last," 
continued  he,  "  there  is  another,  and  wicked  one,  who 
lives  deep  down  in  the  earth.  We  must  now  separate. 
When  the  winds  blow  from  the  four  corners  of  the 
earth  you  must  then  go.  Tiicy  will  carry  you  to  the 
place  you  wish.     I   go  to  the  rocks  and  mountains, 


1 


*  Tlio  opinion  tlint  t]w  earth  is  a  s(inar('  and  h'vol  ]»lain, 
nnd  that  th(5  winds  blow  from  its  lour  torntMs,  is  a  very  ancient 
ea»toru  opiuiou. 


94      PUCK  WUDJ  ININEES;  OR,  VANISHING  LITTLE  MEN, 

where  my  kindred  will  ever  delight  to  dwell."  He  then 
took  his  ball  stick,  and  commencod  running  up  a  high 
mountain,  whooping  as  he  went.  Presently  the  winds 
blew,  and,  as  he  predicted,  his  sister  was  borne  by  them 
to  the  eastern  sky,  where  she  has  ever  since  been,  and 
her  name  is  the  Morning  Star. 

Blow,  winds,  blow !  my  sister  lingers 

For  her  dwelling  in  the  sky, 
Where  the  morn,  with  rosy  fingers. 

Shall  her  cheeks  with  vermil  dye. 

There,  my  earliest  views  directed. 

Shall  from  her  their  color  take, 
And  her  smiles,  through  clouds  reflected, 

Guide  mo  on,  by  wood  or  lake. 


While  I  range  the  highest  mountains. 
Sport  in  valleys  green  and  low, 

Or  beside  our  Indian  fountains 
liaise  my  tiny  hip  holla. 


PEZHIU  AND  WABOSE, 


CR 


THE  LYNX  AND  HARE. 


A  CHIPPEWA  FABLE. 


A  LYNX  almost  famished,  met  a  Iiare  one  day  in  the 
woods,  in  the  winter  season,  when  food  was  very  scarce. 
The  hare,  however,  stood  up  on  a  rock,  and  was  safe 
from  its  enemy. 

"  Wabose,''  said  the  lynx,  in  a  very  kind  manner, 
"come  here,  my  little  white  one,*  I  wish  to  talk  to 
you.'^ 

"  Oh  no,"  rci)lied  the  hare,  "  I  am  afraid  of  yon,  and 
my  mother  told  me  never  to  go  and  talk  to  strangers." 

*'  You  are  very  pretty,"  answered  the  lynx,  "and  a 
very  obedient  child  to  your  parents,  but  you  must 
know  that  I  am  a  relative  of  yours.  I  wish  to  send 
some  word  to  your  lodge.     Come  down  and  see  me." 

The  hare  was  pleased  to  be  called  pretty,  and  when 
she  heard  that  it  was  a  relative,  she  jumped  down  from 
the  place  where  she  stood,  and  was  immediately  torn 
in  pieces  by  the  lynx.f 


I 


*  Sach  Is  tho  meaning  of  Wauose, 


f  Oneuta. 


PEBOAN  AND    SEEGWUN. 


AN 


ALLEGORY  OF  WINTER  AND  SPRING. 


ODJIBWA. 


^ 


An  old  man  was  sitting  in  his  lodge,  by  the  side  of 
a  frozen  stream.  It  was  the  close  of  winter,  and  his 
fire  was  almost  out.  lie  appeared  very  old  and  very 
desolate.  His  locks  were  white  with  age,  and  he  trem- 
bled in  every  joint.  Day  after  day  passed  in  solitude, 
and  he  heard  nothing  but  the  sounds  of  the  tempest, 
sweeping  before  it  the  new-fallen  snow. 

One  day,  as  his  fire  was  just  dying,  a  handsome 
young  man  approached  and  entered  his  dwelling.  His 
cheeks  were  red  with  the  blood  of  youth,  his  eyes  spark- 
led with  animation,  and  a  smile  played  upon  his  lips. 
,  He  walked  with  a  light  and  quick  step.  His  forehead 
was  bound  with  a  wreath  of  sweet  grass,  in  place  of  a 
warrior's  frontlet,  and  he  carried  a  bunch  of  flowers  in 
his  hand. 

"Ah,  ray  son,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  am  happy  to  sec 
you.  Come  in.  Come,  tell  me  of  your  adventures, 
and  whnt  strange  Innds  you  have  been  to  see.  Let  us 
pass  the  night  together.  I  will  tell  you  of  my  prowess 
and  exploits,  and  what  I  can  perform.  You  shall  do 
the  same,  nnd  we  will  amuse  ourselves." 


PEBOAN  AND  SEEGWUN. 


9T 


lie  then  drew  from  his  sack  a  curiously-wrought  an- 
tique pipe,  and  having  filled  it  with  tobacco,  rendered 
mild  by  an  admixture  of  certain  leaves,  handed  it  to 
his  guest.  When  this  ceremony  was  concluded  they 
began  to  speak. 

"I  blow  my  breath,"  said  the  old  man,  "and  the 
streams  stand  still.  The  water  becomes  stiff  and  hard 
as  clear  stone." 

"I  breathe,"  said  the  young  man,  "and  flowers 
spring  up  all  over  the  plains." 

"I  shake  my  locks,"  retorted  the  old  man,  "and 
snow  covers  the  land.  The  leaves  fall  from  the  trees 
at  my  command,  and  my  breath  blows  them  away. 
The  birds  get  up  from  the  water,  and  fly  to  a  distant 
land.  The  animals  hide  themselves  from  my  breath, 
and  the  very  ground  becomes  as  hard  as  flint." 

"  I  shake  my  ringlets,"  rejoined  the  young  man,  "  and 
warm  showers  of  soft  rain  fall  upon  the  earth.  The 
plants  lift  up  their  heads  out  of  the  earth,  like  the  eyes 
of  children  glistening  with  delight.  My  voice  recalls 
the  birds.  The  warmth  of  my  breath  unlocks  the 
streams.  Music  fills  the  groves  wherever  1  walk,  and 
all  nature  rejoices." 

At  length  the  sun  bejran  to  rise.  A  gentle  warmth 
came  over  the  place.  The  tongue  of  the  old  man  be- 
came silent.  The  robin  and  bluebird  began  to  sing  on 
the  top  of  the  lodge.  The  stream  began  to  murmur 
by  the  door,  and  the  fragrance  of  growing  herbs  and 
flowers  came  softly  on  the  vernal  breeze. 

Daylight  fully  revealed  to  the  young  man  the  cha- 
racter of  his  entertainer.  When  he  looked  upon  him, 
he  hud  tlie  icy  visnge  of  Pcboan.*     Streams  began  to 


*  Wiiitor. 


98 


PEBOAN  AND  SEEGWUN. 


flow  from  his  eyes.  As  the  sun  increased,  he  grew  less 
and  less  in  stature,  and  anon  had  melted  completely 
away.  Nothing  remained  on  the  place  of  his  lodge 
lire  but  the  miskodeed,*  a  small  white  flower,  with  a 
pink  border,  which  is  one  of  the  earliest  species  of 
northern  plants. 

*  The  Claytonia  Virginica. 


): 


MON-DAW-MIN, 


OB 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  INDIAN  CORN. 


ODJIBWA. 


In  times  past,  a  poor  Indian  was  living  with  bis  wife 
and  children  in  a  beautiful  part  of  the  country.  He 
was  not  only  poor,  but  inexpert  in  procuring  food  for 
his  family,  and  his  children  were  all  too  young  to  give 
him  assistance.  Although  poor,  he  was  a  man  of  a 
kind  and  contented" disposition.  He  was  always  thank- 
ful to  the  Great  Spirit  for  everything  he  received.  The 
same  disposition  was  inherited  by  his  eldest  son,  who 
had  now  arrived  at  the  proper  age  to  undertake  the 
ceremony  of  the  Ke-ig-uish-im-owin,  or  fast,  to  see 
what  kind  of  a  spirit  would  be  his  guide  and  guardian 
through  life.  Wunzh,  for  this  was  his  name,  had  been 
an  obedient  boy  from  his  infancy,  and  was  of  a  pensive, 
thcnghtful,  and  mild  disposition,  so  that  he  was  beloved 
by  the  whole  family.  As  soon  as  the  first  indications 
of  spring  appeared,  they  built  him  the  customary  little 
lodge  at  a  retired  spot,  some  distance  from  their  own, 
where  he  would  not  be  disturbed  during  this  solemn 
rite.  In  the  mean  time  he  prejjared  himself,  and  imme- 
diately went  into  it,  and  commenced  his  fust.     The  first 


100 


mon-daw-min;  or, 


few  days,  he  amused  himself,  in  the  mornings,  by  walk- 
ing in  the  woods  and  over  the  mountains,  examining 
the  early  plants  and  flowers,  and  in  this  way  prepared 
himself  to  enjoy  his  sleep,  and,  at  the  same  time,  stored 
his  mind  with  pleasant  ideas  for  his  dreams.  While  he 
rambled  through  the  woods,  he  felt  a  strong  desire  to 
know  how  the  plants,  herbs,  and  berries  grew,  without 
any  aid  from  man,  and  why  it  was  that  some  species 
were  good  to  eat,  and  others  possessed  medicinal  or 
poisonous  juices.  He  recalled  these  thoughts  to  mind 
after  he  became  too  languid  to  walk  about,  and  had 
confined  himself  strictly  to  the  lodge ;  he  wished  he 
could  dream  of  something  that  would  prove  a  benefit 
to  his  father  and  family,  and  to  all  others.  "True!" 
he  thought,  "  the  Great  Spirit  made  all  things,  and  it 
is  to  him  that  we  owe  our  lives.  But  could  he  not 
make  it  easier  for  us  to  get  our  food,  than  by  hunting 
animals  and  taking  fish  ?  I  must  try  to  find  out  this 
in  ray  visions." 

On  the  third  day  he  became  weak  and  faint,  and  kept 
his  bed.  He  fancied,  while  thus  lying,  that  he  saw  a 
handsome  young  man  coming  down  from  the  sky  and 
advancing  towards  him.  He  was  richly  and  gayly 
dressed,  having  on  a  great  many  garments  of  green  and 
yellow  colors,  but  differing  in  their  deeper  or  lighter 
shades.  He  had  a  plume  of  waving  feathers  on  his 
head,  and  all  his  motions  were  graceful. 

**  I  am  sent  to  you,  my  fViend,"  said  the  celestial 
visitor,  "  by  that  Great  Spirit  who  made  all  things  in 
the  sky  and  on  the  earth.  He  has  seen  and  knows 
your  motives  in  fasting.  He  sees  that  it  is  from  a  kind 
and  benevolent  wish  to  do  good  to  your  people,  and 
to  procure  a  benefit  for  them,  and  that  you  do  not  seek 
for  strength  in  war  or  the  praise  of  warriors.     I  am 


.f 


THE  ORIGIN  OP  INDIAN  CORN. 


101 


S 


sent  to  instruct  you,  and  show  you  how  you  can  do 
your  kindred  good."  He  then  told  the  young  man  to 
arise,  and  prepare  to  wrestle  with  him,  as  it  was  only 
by  this  means  that  he  could  hope  to  succeed  in  his 
wishes.  Wunzh  knew  he  was  weak  from  fasting,  but 
he  felt  his  courage  rising  in  his  heart,  and  immediately 
got  up,  determined  to  die  rather  than  fail.  He  com- 
menced the  trial,  and  after  a  protracted  effort,  was  al- 
most exhausted,  when  the  beautiful  stranger  said,  "  My 
friend,  it  is  enough  for  once  ;  I  will  come  again  to  try 
you ;"  and,  smiling  on  him,  he  ascended  in  the  air  in 
the  same  direction  from  which  he  came.  The  next 
day  the  celestial  visitor  reappeared  at  the  same  hour 
and  renewed  the  trial.  Wunzh  felt  that  his  strength 
was  even  lees  than  the  day  before,  but  the  courage  of 
his  mind  seemed  to  increase  in  proportion  as  his  body 
became  weaker.  Seeing  this,  the  stranger  again  spoke 
to  him  in  the  same  words  he  used  before,  adding,  "  To- 
morrow will  be  your  last  trial.  Be  strong,  my  friend, 
for  this  is  the  only  way  you  can  overcome  me,  and  ob- 
tain the  boon  you  seek."  On  the  third  day  he  again 
appeared  at  the  same  time  and  renewed  the  struggle, 
Tiie  poor  youth  was  very  faint  in  body,  but  grew 
stronger  in  mind  at  every  contest,  and  was  deterniined 
to  prevail  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  He  exerted  his 
utmost  powers,  and  after  the  contest  had  been  continued 
the  usual  time,  the  stranger  ceased  his  efforts  anil 
declared  himself  conquered.  For  the  first  time  he 
entered  the  lodge,  and  sitting  down  beside  the  youth, 
he  began  to  deliver  his  instructions  to  him,  telling  him 
in  what  manner  he  should  proceed  to  take  advantage  of 
his  victory. 

"You  have  won  your  desires  of  the  Great  Si)irit," 
said  the    stranger.      "  You    have  wrestled    manfully. 

9* 


102 


mon-daw-min;  or, 


To-morrow  will  be  the  seventh  day  of  your  fasting. 
Your  father  will  give  you  food  to  strengthen  you,  and 
as  it  is  the  last  day  of  trial,  you  will  prevail.  I  know 
this,  and  now  tell  you  what  you  must  do  to  benefit  your 
family  and  your  tribe.  To-morrow,"  he  repeated,  "  I 
shall  meet  you  and  wrestle  with  you  for  the  last  time  ; 
and,  as  soon  as  you  have  prevailed  against  me,  you 
will  strip  oflf  ray  garments  and  throw  me  down,  clean 
the  earth  of  roots  and  weeds,  make  it  soft,  and  bury 
me  in  the  spot.  When  you  have  done  this,  leave  my 
body  in  the  earth,  and  do  not  disturb  it,  but  come  oc- 
casionally to  visit  the  place,  to  see  whether  I  have 
come  to  life,  and  be  careful  never  to  let  the  grass  or 
weeds  grow  on  my  grave.  Once  a  month  cover  me 
with  fresh  earth.  If  you  follow  my  instructions,  you 
will  accomplish  your  object  of  doing  good  to  your 
fellow-creatures  by  teaching  them  the  knowledge  I  now 
teach  you."  He  then  shook  him  by  the  hand  and  dis- 
appeared. 

In  the  morning  the  youth's  father  came  with  some 
slight  refreshments,  saying,  "  My  son,  you  have  fasted 
long  enough.  If  the  Great  Spirit  will  favor  you,  he 
will  do  it  now.  It  is  seven  days  since  you  have 
tasted  food,  and  you  must  not  sacrifice  your  life. 
The  Master  of  Life  does  not  require  that.''  "My 
father,"  replied  the  youth,  "  wait  till  the  sun  goes 
down.  I  have  a  particular  reason  for  extending  my 
fast  to  that  hour."  "  Yery  well,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I 
shall  wait  till  the  hour  arrives,  and  you  feel  inclined  to 
eat." 

At  the  usual  hour  of  the  day  the  sky-visitor  returned, 
and  the  trial  of  strength  was  renewed.  Although  the 
youth  had  not  availed  himself  of  his  father's  offer  of 
food,  he  felt  that  new  strength  had  been  given  to  him, 


TUE  ORIGIN  OP  INDIAN  CORN. 


103 


and  that  exertion  had  renewed  his  strength  and  forti- 
fied his  courage.  He  grasped  his  angelic  antagonist 
with  supernatural  strength,  threw  him  down,  took  from 
him  his  beautiful  garments  and  plume,  and  finding  him 
dead,  immediately  buried  him  on  the  spot,  talcing  all 
the  precautions  he  had  been  told  of,  and  being  very 
confident,  at  the  same  time,  that  his  friend  would 
again  come  to  life.  He  then  returned  to  his  father's 
lodge,  and  partook  sparingly  of  the  meal  that  had  been 
prepared  for  him.  But  ho  never  for  a  moment  forgot 
the  grave  of  his  friend.  He  carefully  visited  it  through- 
out the  spring,  and  weeded  out  the  grass,  and  kept  the 
ground  in  a  soft  and  pliant  state.  Very  soon  he  saw 
the  tops  of  the  green  plumes  coming  through  the 
ground  ;  and  the  more  careful  he  was  to  obey  his  in- 
structions in  keeping  the  ground  in  order,  the  faster 
they  grew.  He  was,  however,  careful  to  conceal  the 
exploit  from  his  father.  Days  and  weeks  had  passed 
in  this  way.  The  summer  was  now  drawing  towards  a 
close,  when  one  day,  after  a  long  absence  in  hunting, 
Wunzh  invited  his  father  to  follow  him  to  the  quiet 
and  lonesome  spot  of  his  former  fast.  The  lodge  had 
been  removed,  and  the  weeds  kept  from  growing  on  the 
circle  where  it  stood,  but  in  its  place  stood  a  tall  and 
graceful  plant,  with  bright-colored  silken  hair,  sur- 
mounted with  nodding  plumes  and  stately  leaves,  and 
golden  clusters  on  each  side.  "  It  is  my  friend,"  shouted 
the  lad ;  "it  is  the  friend  of  all  mankind.  It  is  Mon- 
dawmin*  We  need  no  longer  rely  on  hunting  alone  ; 
for,  as  long  as  this  gift  is  cherished  and  taken  care  of, 


*  Tlie  Algic  name  for  corn.  The  word  is  manifestly  a  tri- 
nary  compound  from  viotudo,  spirit ;  min,  a  grain  or  berry  ;  and 
iair,  the  verb  substantive. 


104  mon-daw-min;  or,  the  origin  op  Indian  corn. 


*  .'i 


the  ground  itself  will  give  us  a  living."  He  then 
pulled  an  ear.  "See,  ray  father,"  said  he,  "this  is 
what  I  fasted  for.  The  great  Spirit  has  listened  to  my 
voice,  and  sent  us  something  new,*  and  henceforth  our 
people  will  not  alone  depend  upon  the  chase  or  upon 
the  waters." 

He  then  communicated  to  his  father  the  instructions 
given  him  by  the  stranger.  He  told  him  that  the 
broad  husks  must  be  torn  away,  as  he  had  pulled  off 
the  garments  in  his  wrestling  ;  and  having  done  this, 
directed  him  how  the  ear  must  be  held  before  the  fire 
till  the  outer  skin  became  brown,  while  all  the  milk 
was  retained  in  the  grain.  The  whole  family  then 
united  in  a  feast  on  the  newly-grown  ears,  expressing 
gratitude  to  the  Merciful  Spirit  who  gave  it.  So  corn 
came  into  the  world. 


*  The  Zea  mays,  it  will  bo  recollected,  is  indigenous  to 
America,  and  was  unknown  in  Europe  before  1495. 


NEZIIIK-E-WA-WA-SUN, 


OR 


THE  LONE  LIGHTNING. 


ODJIBWA. 


A  LITTLE  orphan  boy  who  had  no  one  to  care  for 
him,  was  once  living  with  his  uncle,  who  treated  him 
very  badly,  making  him  do  hard  things  and  giving  him 
very  little  to  eat ;  so  that  the  boy  pined  away,  he  never 
grew  much,  and  became,  through  hard  usage,  very 
thin  and  light.  At  last  the  uncle  felt  ashamed  of  this 
treatment,  and  determined  to  make  amends  for  it,  by 
fattening  him  up,  but  his  real  object  was,  to  kill  him  by 
over-feeding.  He  told  his  wife  to  give  the  boy  plenty 
of  bijar's  meat,  and  let  him  have  the  fat,  which  is 
thought  to  be  the  best  part.  They  were  both  very  as- 
siduous in  cramming  him,  and  one  day  came  near 
choking  him  to  death,  by  forcing  the  fat  down  his 
throat.  The  boy  escaped  and  fled  from  the  lodge.  He 
knew  not  where  to  go,  but  wandered  about.  When 
night  came  on,  he  was  afraid  the  wild  beasts  would  eat 
him,  so  he  climbed  up  into  the  forks  of  a  high  pine 
tree,  and  there  he  fell  asleep  in  the  branches,  and  had 
an  aupoway,  or  ominous  dream. 

A  person  appeared  to  him  from  the  upper  sky,  and 


T' 


lOG  nez[IIK-e-wa-wa-sun;  or,  the  lone  ltgiitnino. 

paid,  *'  My  poor  little  lad,  I  pity  you.  and  the  bad  usage 
you  have  received  from  your  uncle  has  led  me  to  visit 
you  :  follow  me,  and  step  in  my  tracks."  Immediately 
his  sleep  left  him,  and  he  rose  up  and  followed  his 
guide,  mounting  up  higher  and  higher  into  the  air, 
until  he  reached  the  upper  sky.  Here  twelve  arrows 
were  put  into  his  hands,  and  he  was  told  that  there 
were  a  great  many  manitoes  in  the  northern  sky,  against 
whom  he  must  go  to  war,  and  try  to  waylay  and  shoot 
them.  Accordingly  he  went  to  that  part  of  the  sky, 
and,  at  long  intervals,  shot  arrow  after  arrow,  until  he 
had  expended  eleven,  in  vain  attempt  to  kill  the  man- 
itoes. At  the  flight  of  each  arrow,  there  was  a  long 
and  solitary  streak  of  lightning  in  the  sky — then  all 
w'as  clear  again,  and  not  a  cloud  or  spot  could  be  seen. 
The  twelfth  arrow  he  held  a  long  time  in  his  hands,  and 
looked  around  keenly  on  every  side  to  spy  the  manitoes 
he  was  after.  But  these  manitoes  were  very  cunning,  and 
could  change  their  form  in  a  moment.  All  they  feared 
was  the  boy's  arrows,  for  these  were  magic  arrows, 
which  had  been  given  to  him  by  a  good  spirit,  and  had 
power  to  kill  them,  if  aimed  aright.  At  length,  the 
boy  drew  up  his  last  arrow,  settled  in  his  aim,  and  let 
fly,  as  he  thought,  into  the  very  heart  of  the  chief  of 
the  manitoes ;  but  before  the  arrow,  reached  him,  the 
manito  changed  himself  into  a  rock.  Into  this  rock, 
the  head  of  the  arrow  sank  deep  and  stuck  fast. 

"Now  your  gifts  are  all  expended,"  cried  the  en- 
raged manito,  "and  I  will  make  an  exami)le  of  your 
audacity  and  pride  of  heart,  for  lifting  your  bow  against 
me" — and  so  saying,  he  transformed  the  boy  into  the 
Nc/.hik-c-wii  wil  sun,  or  Lone  Lightning,  which  may 
be  observed  in  the  northern  sky,  to  this  day. 


4 


THE  AK  UK  O  JEESH, 


OB 


THE  GROUNDHOG  FAMILY. 


AN  ODJIBWA  FABLE. 


A  FEMALE  akukojcesli,  or  groundhog,  with  a  numer- 
ous family  of  young  ones,  was  burrowing  in  her  wauzh, 
or  hole  in  the  ground,  one  long  winter,  in  the  north, 
when  the  young  ones  became  impatient  for  f^pring. 
Every  day  the  mother  would  go  out  and  get  roots  and 
other  things,  which  she  brought  in  to  them  to  eat ;  and 
she  always  told  them  to  lie  close  and  keep  warm,  and 
never  to  venture  towards  the  mouth  of  the  wauzh.  IJut 
they  became  very  impatient  at  last  to  see  the  light  and 
the  green  woods.  "Mother,"  said  they,  "is  it  not  almost 
spring?"  "No I  no !"  said  she,  in  a  cross  humor,  "keep 
still  and  wait  ]>atiently ;  it  hails,  it  snows,  it  is  cold — it 
is  windy.  Why  should  you  wish  to  go  out  ?"  This  she 
told  them  so  often,  and  said  it  in  such  a  bad  temper, 
that  they  at  last  suspected  some  deception.  One  day 
she  came  in,  after  having  been  a  long  while  absent,  and 
fell  asleep,  with  her  mouth  open.  The  little  ones 
peeped  in  slily,  and  saw  on  her  teeth  the  remains  of  the 
nice  white  bulbous  roots  of  the  mo-nu-wing,  or  adder's 


rr 


■  I 


108   AK  UK  O  JEESU;    OR,  THE  GROUNDHOG  FAMILY. 

tongue  violet.  They  at  once  knew  it  was  spring,  and 
without  disturbing  the  old  one,  who  only  wanted  to 
keep  them  in  till  they  were  full  grown,  away  they 
scampered,  out  of  the  hole,  and  dispersed  themselves 
about  the  forest,  and  so  the  family  were  all  scattered. 


OPEECIIEE, 


OR 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  llOBIN. 


FROM   THE   ODJIBWA. 


An  old  man  had  an  only  son  named  Oj)eechce,  who 
had  come  to  that  age  which  is  thouf^ht  to  be  most  pro- 
per to  make  the  long  and  final  fast,  tiiat  is  to  secure 
through  life  a  guardian  genius  or  sjurit.  In  the  influ- 
ence of  this  choice,  it  is  well  known,  our  people  have 
relied  for  their  prosperity  in  after  life  ;  it  was,  there- 
fore, an  event  of  deep  importance. 

Tile  old  man  was  ambitious  that  his  son  should  sur- 
pass all  others  in  whatever  was  deemed  most  wise  and 
great  among  his  tribe  ;  and,  to  fulfil  his  wishes,  he 
thought  it  necessary  that  he  should  fast  a  much  longer 
time  than  any  of  those  persons,  renowned  for  their 
prowess  or  wisdom,  whose  fame  he  coveted.  He  there- 
fore directed  his  son  to  prepare,  with  great  ceremony, 
for  the  important  event.  After  he  had  been  in  the 
sweating  lodge  and  bath  several  times,  he  ordered  him 
to  lie  down  upon  a  clean  mat,  in  a  little  lodge  expressly 
prepared  for  him;  telling  him,  at  the  same  time,  to 
endure  his  fast  like  a  man,  and  that,  at  the  expiration 
of  ttrtlve  days,  he  should  receive  food  and  the  Ijlcssing 
of  his  father. 
10 


f^ 


It  . 


I 


■  ■ 


no 


opeeciiee;  or, 


The  lad  carefully  observed  this  injunction,  lying  with 
perfect  composure,  with  his  face  covered,  awaiting 
those  mystic  visitations  which  were  to  seal  his  good  or 
evil  fortune.  His  father  visited  him  regularly  every 
morning,  to  encourage  him  to  perseverance,  expatiat- 
ing at  length  on  the  honor  and  renown  that  would 
attend  him  through  life  if  he  accomplished  the  full  term 
prescribed.  To  these  admonitions  and  encouragements 
the  boy  never  replied,  but  lay,  without  the  least  sign  of 
discontent  or  murmuring,  until  the  ninth  day,  when  he 
addressed  his  father  as  follows  : — 

"  My  father,  my  dreams  forebode  evil.  May  I  break 
my  fast  now,  and  at  a  more  propitious  time  make  a  new 
fast?"     The  father  answered — 

"  My  son,  you  know  not  what  you  ask.  If  you  get 
up  now,  all  your  glory  will  depart.  Wait  patiently  a 
little  longer.  You  have  but  three  days  yet  to  accom- 
plish your  desire.  You  know  it  is  for  your  own  good, 
and  I  encourage  you  to  persevere." 

The  son  assented  ;  and,  covering  himself  closer,  he 
lay  till  the  eleventh  day,  when  he  repeated  his  request. 
Yery  nearly  the  same  answer  was  given  him  by  his 
father,  who  added  that  the  next  day  he  would  himself 
prepare  his  first  meal,  and  bring  it  to  him.  The  boy 
remained  silent,  but  lay  as  motionjess  as  a  corpse.  No 
one  would  have  known  he  was  living  but  by  the  gentle 
heaving  of  his  breast. 

The  next  morning,  the  father,  elated  ot  liaving 
gained  his  end,  ])repared  a  repast  for  his  son,  and  hast- 
ened to  set  it  before  him.  On  coming  to  the  door,  he 
was  surprised  to  hear  his  son  talking  to  himself,  lie 
stooped  to  listen ;  and,  looking  tlirough  a  small  ai)er- 
ture,  was  more  astonished  when  he  beheUl  his  sou 
painted  with  vermilion  over  all  his  breast,  and  in  the 


'« 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  ROBIX. 


Ill 


wiili 
A  ting 
od  or 
every 
atiat- 
A'ould 
I  term 
meuts 
iign  of 
lien  he 

;  break 
5  a  new 

!^on  get 

iently  a 

accom- 

n  good, 

oser,  be 
request. 
1  by  bis 
himself 
The  boy 
ise.     No 
lie  gentle 

having 
and  hast- 
;  door,  he 

iself.  1I« 
nail  aper- 
\  bis  sou 
Liid  in  the 


m 


^'i 


act  of  finishing  his  work  by  laying  on  the  paint  as  far 
back  on  his  shoulders  as  he  could  reach  with  his  hands, 
saying,  at  the  same  time,  to  himself,  "  My  father  has 
destroyed  my  fortune  as  a  man.  He  would  not  listen 
to  my  requests.  He  will  be  the  loser.  I  shall  be  for- 
ever happy  in  my  new  state,  for  I  have  l)een  obedient 
to  my  parent;  he  ahnie  will  be  the  sufiercr,  for  my 
guardian  spirit  is  a  just  one  ;  though  not  propitious  to 
me  in  the  manner  I  desired,  he  has  shown  me  i)ity  in 
another  way  ;  he  has  given  me  another  shape  ;  and 
now  I  must  go." 

At  this  moment  the  old  man  broke  in,  exclaiming, 
"  ]V[y  son  !  my  son  !  I  pray  you  leave  me  not."  l>ut 
the  young  man,  with  the  quickness  of  a  bird,  had  flown 
to  the  top  of  the  lodge,  and  perched  himself  on  the 
highest  pole,  having  been  changed  into  a  beautiful 
rol)in  redbreast. 

He  looked  down  upon  his  father  with  pity  beaming 
in  his  eyes,  and  addressed  him  as  follows  :  "  Hegret 
not,  my  father,  the  change  you  l)ehold.  I  shall  be 
happier  in  my  present  state  than  I  could  have  been  as 
a  man.  I  shall  always  be  tlie  friend  of  men,  and  keep 
near  their  dwellings.  I  shall  ever  be  happy  and  con- 
tented ;  and  although  I  could  not  gratify  your  wishes 
as  a  warrior,  it  will  be  my  daily  aim  to  make  you 
amends  for  it  as  a  harbinger  of  peace  atid  joy.  I  will 
cheer  you  by  my  songs,  and  strive  to  inspire  in  others 
the  joy  and  lightsomeness  I  feel  in  my  present  state. 
This  will  be  some  compensation  to  you  for  the  loss  of 
the  glory  you  expected.     I  am  now  free  from  the  cares 

itaneou 


V 


^fy 


sp 


ly 


furnished  l)y  the  mountains  and  fields,  and  my  jtathway 
of  life  is  in  the  bright  air."     Then  stretching  himself 


Mi 


112      opeeciiee;  or,  the  oriqin  of  the  robin. 

on  his  toes,  as  if  delighted  with  the  gift  of  wings,  he 
carolled  one  of  his  sweetest  songs,  and  flew  away  into 
a  neighboring  grove.* 

*  See  Notes  of  the  Pibbigwun. 


Jl 


i^s,  he 
J  into 


SIIINGEBISS. 


AN 


ALLEGORY  OF  SELF-RELIANCE. 


FROM  THE  ODJIBWA. 


There  was  once  a  Sbingebiss,  the  name  of  the  fall 
duck  living  alone,  in  a  solitary  lodge,  on  the  shores  of 
the  deep  bay  of  a  lake,  in  the  coldest  winter  weather. 
The  ice  had  formed  on  the  water,  and  he  had  but  four 
logs  of  wood  to  keep  his  fire.  Each  of  these  would, 
however,  burn  a  month,  and  as  there  were  but  four  cold 
winter  months,  they  were  sufficient  to  carry  him  through 
till  spring. 

Shingebiss  was  hardy  and  fearless,  and  cared  for  no 
one.  He  would  go  out  during  the  coldest  day,  and 
seek  for  places  where  flags  and  rushes  grew  through 
the  ice,  and  plucking  them  up  with  his  bill,  would  dive 
through  the  openings,  in  quest  of  fish.  In  this  way  he 
found  plenty  of  food,  while  others  were  starving,  and 
he  went  home  daily  to  his  lodge,  dragging  strings  of 
fish  after  him,  on  the  ice. 

Kabebonicca*  observed  him,  and  felt  a  little  piqued 
at  his  perseverance  and  good  luck  in  defiance  of  the 
severes  blasts  of  wind  he  could  send  from  the  uorth- 


*  A  personification  of  the  Nortlivvcst. 
10* 


\  i 


J  '^ 


I 


ii 


114 


SIIINGEBISS; 


west.  "  Why  !  this  is  a  wonderful  man," said  he  ;  "he 
does  not  mind  the  cold,  and  appears  as  happy  and 
contented  as  if  it  were  the  month  of  June.  I  will  try 
whether  he  cannot  be  mastered."  He  poured  forth 
tenfold  colder  blasts,  and  drifts  of  snow,  so  that  it 
was  next  to  impossible  to  live  in  the  open  air.  Still, 
the  tire  of  Shingebiss  did  not  go  out :  he  wore  but  a 
single  strip  of  leather  around  his  body,  and  he  was  seen, 
in  the  worst  weather,  searching  the  shores  for  rushes, 
and  carrying  home  fish. 

"  I  shall  go  and  visit  him,"  said  Kabebonicca,  one 
day,  as  he  saw  Shingebiss  dragging  along  a  quantity 
of  fish.  And,  accordingly,  that  very  night,  he  went  to 
the  door  of  his  lodge.  Meantime  Shingebiss  had  cooked 
his  fish,  and  finished  his  meal,  and  was  lying,  partly 
on  his  side,  before  the  fire,  singing  his  songs.  After 
Kabebonicca  had  come  to  the  door,  and  stood  listening 
there,  he  sang  as  follows  : — 


Ka 

Noej 

Ka 

Ne(^j 

Be 

In 

Be 

In 

B.)n 

III 

Bon 

In 

Oc 

Ee. 

Oc 

Ee. 

Ca 

We-ya  ! 

.      Ca 

We-ya  1 

The  number  of  words,  in  this  song,  are  few  and  simple, 
but  they  are  made  up  from  compound^  which  carry  the 
whole  of  their  original  meanings,  and  are  rather  sug- 
gestive of  the  ideas  floating  in  the  mind  than  actual 
expressions  of  those  ideas.     Literally,  he  sings  : — 

Spirit  of  tlxo  Northwest — you  are  but  my  fellow  man. 

By  being  broken  into  syllables,  to  correspond  with  a  sim- 
])le  chant,  and  by  the  power  of  intonation  and  repetition, 
with  a  chorus,  these  words  are  expanded  into  melodious 


'-r\r 


M 


AN  ALLEGORY  OF  SELF-RELIANCE. 


115 


iple, 
the 

Sllg- 

;tual 


Isim- 
tion, 
lions 


utterance,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  term,  and  nia)     ^ 
thus  rendered : — 

Windy  god,  I  know  your  plan, 
You  are  but  my  fellow  man  ; 
Blow  you  may  your  coldest  breeze, 
Shingebiss  you  cannot  freeze. 
Sweep  the  strongest  wind  you  can, 
Shingebiss  is  still  your  man  ; 
Heigh  !  for  life — and  ho  !  for  bliss. 
Who  so  free  as  Shingebiss  ? 

The  hunter  knew  that  Kabebonicca  was  at  his  door, 
for  he  felt  his  cold  and  strong  breath  ;  but  he  kept  on 
singing  his  songs,  and  affected  utter  indifference.  At 
length  Kabebonicca  entered,  and  took  his  seat  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  lodge.  But  Shingebiss  did  not 
regard,  or  notice  him.  He  got  up,  as  if  nobody  were 
present,  and  taking  his  poker,  pushed  the  log,  which 
made  his  fire  burn  brighter,  repeating,  as  he  sat  down 


agam : — 


You  are  but  my  fellow  man. 


Very  soon  the  tears  began  to  flow  down  Kabebo- 
nicca's  cheeks,  which  increased  so  fast,  that,  presently, 
he  said  to  himself:  "  I  cannot  stand  this — I  must  go 
out."  He  did  so,  and  left  Shingebiss  to  his  songs; 
but  resolved  to  freeze  up  all  the  flag  orifices,  and  make 
the  ice  thick,  so  that  he  could  not  get  any  more  fish. 
Still,  Shingebiss,  by  dint  of  great  diligence,  found 
means  to  pull  up  new  roots,  and  dive  under  for  fish. 
At  last,  Kabebonicca  was  compelled  to  give  up  the 
contest.  "  He  must  be  aided  by  some  Monedo,"  said 
he.  "  I  can  neither  freeze  him  nor  starve  him  ;  he  is 
a  very  singular  being — I  will  let  him  alone." 


' 


li' 


\  i 

t    i 


', 


\ 


THE  STAR  FAMILY, 


OB 


CELESTIAL  SISTERS. 


SHAWNEE. 


Waupee,  or  the  White  Hawk,  lived  in  a  remote  part 
of  the  forest,  where  animals  and  birds  were  abundant. 
Every  day  he  returned  from  the  chase  with  the  reward 
of  his  toil,  for  he  was  one  of  the  most  skilful  and  cele- 
brated hunters  of  his  tribe.  With  a  tall,  manly  form, 
and  the  fire  of  youth  beaming  from  his  eye,  tlf  re  was 
no  forest  too  gloomy  for  him  to  penetrate,  and  no  track 
made  by  the  numerous  kinds  of  birds  and  beasts  which 
he  could  not  follow. 

One  day  he  penetrated  beyond  any  point  which  he 
had  before  visited.  He  travelled  through  an  open 
forest,  which  enabled  him  to  see  a  great  distance.  At 
length  he  beheld  a  light  breaking  through  the  foliage, 
which  made  him  sure  that  he  was  on  the  borders  of  a 
prairie.  It  was  a  wide  plain  covered  with  grass  and 
flowers.  After  walking  some  time  without  a  path,  he 
suddenly  came  to  a  ring  worn  through  the  sod,  as  if  it 
had  been  made  by  footsteps  following  a  circle.  But 
what  excited  his  surprise  was,  that  there  was  no  path 
leading  to  or  from  it.  Not  the  least  trace  of  footsteps 
could  be  found,  even  in  a  crushed  leaf  or  broken  twig. 


■WMaaani— 


THE  STAR  FAMILY;    OR,  THE  CELESTIAL  SISTERS.       lit 

He  thoup^ht  he  wonlcl  hide  himself,  and  lie  in  wait  to 
see  what  this  circle  meant.  Presently  he  heard  the 
faint  sounds  of  music  in  the  air.  He  looked  up  in  the 
direction  they  came  from,  and  saw  a  small  object  de- 
scending from  above.  At  first  it  looked  like  a  mere 
speck,  but  rapidly  increased,  and,  as  it  came  down,  the 
music  became  plainer  and  sweeter.  It  assumed  the 
form  of  a  basket,  and  was  filled  with  twelve  sisters  of 
the  most  lovely  forms  and  enchanting  beauty.  As 
soon  as  the  basket  touched  the  ground,  they  leaped 
out,  and  began  to  dance  round  the  magic  ring,  strik- 
ing, as  they  did  so,  a  shining  ball  as  we  strike  the  drum. 
Waupee  gazed  upon  their  graceful  forms  and  motions 
from  his  place  of  concealment.  He  admired  thera  all, 
but  was  most  pleased  with  the  youngest.  Unable 
longer  to  restrain  his  admiration,  he  rushed  out  and 
endeavored  to  seize  her.  But  the  sisters,  with  the 
quickness  of  birds,  the  moment  they  descried  the  form 
of  a  man,  leaped  back  into  the  basket  and  were  drawn 
up  into  the  sky. 

Regretting  his  ill  luck  and  indiscretion,  he  gazed 
till  he  saw  them  disappear,  and  then  said,  "They  are 
gone,  and  I  shall  see  them  no  more."  He  returned  to 
his  solitary  lodge,  but  found  no  relief  to  his  mind. 
Next  day  he  went  back  to  the  prairie,  and  took  his 
station  near  the  ring  ;  but  in  order  to  deceive  the  sis- 
ters, he  assumed  the  form  of  an  opossum.  He  had  not 
waited  long,  when  he  saw  the  wicker  car  descend,  and 
heard  the  same  sweet  music.  They  commenced  the 
same  sportive  dance,  and  seemed  even  more  beautiful 
and  graceful  than  before.  He  crept  slowly  towards  the 
ring,  but  the  instant  the  sisters  saw  him  they  were 
startled,  and  sprang  into  their  car.  It  rose  but  a  short 
distance,  when  one  of  the  elder  sisters  spoke.     "  Per- 


118 


THE  STAR  family;   OR, 


haps,"  said  she,  "  it  is  come  to  show  us  how  the  game 
is  played  by  mortals."  "  Oh  no !"  the  youngest  re- 
plied ;  "  quick,  let  us  ascend."  And  all  joining  in  a 
chant,  they  rose  out  of  sight. 

Waupee  returned  to  his  own  form  again,  and  walked 
sorrowfully  back  to  his  lodge.  But  the  night  seemed 
a  very  long  one,  and  he  went  back  betimes  the  next 
day.  He  reflected  upon  the  sort  of  plan  to  follow  to 
secure  success.  lie  found  an  old  stump  near  by,  in 
which  there  were  a  number  of  mice.  He  thought  their 
small  form  would  not  create  alarm,  and  accordingly 
assumed  it.  He  brought  the  stump  and  sat  it  up  near 
the  ring.  The  sisters  came  down  and  resumed  their 
sport.  "But  see,"  cried  the  younger  sister,  "that 
stump  was  not  there  before."  She  ran  affrighted 
towards  the  car.  They  only  smiled,  and  gathering 
round  the  stump,  struck  it  in  jest,  when  out  ran  the 
mice,  and  Waupee  among  the  rest.  They  killed  them 
all  but  one,  which  was  pursued  by  the  youngest  sister  ; 
but  just  as  she  had  raised  her  stick  to  kill  it,  the  form 
of  Waupee  arose,  and  he  clasped  his  prize  in  his  arms. 
The  other  eleven  sprang  to  their  basket  and  were  drawn 
up  to  the  skies. 

He  exerted  all  his  skill  to  please  his  bride  and  win 
her  affections.  He  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes.  He 
related  his  adventures  in  the  chase.  He  dwelt  upon 
the  charms  of  life  on  the  earth.  He  was  incessant  in 
his  attentions,  and  picked  out  the  way  for  her  to  walk 
as  he  led  her  gently  towards  his  lodge.  He  felt  his 
heart  glow  with  joy  as  she  entered  it,  and  from  that 
moment  he  was  one  of  the  happiest  of  men.  Winter 
and  summer  passed  rapidly  away,  and  their  happiness 
was  increased  by  the  addition  of  a  beautiful  boy  to 
their  lodge.     She  was  a  daughter  of  one  the  stars,  and 


TUE  CELESTIAL  SISTERS. 


119 


as  the  scenes  of  earth  began  to  pall  lier  sight,  she 
siglied  to  revisit  her  father.  But  she  was  obliged  to 
hide  these  feelings  from  her  husband.  She  remembered 
the  charm  that  would  carry  her  up,  and  took  occasion, 
while  Wanpee  was  engaged  in  the  chase,  to  construct  a 
wicker  basket,  which  she  kept  concealed.  In  the  mean 
time  she  collected  such  rarities  from  the  earth  as  she 
thought  would  please  her  father,  as  well  as  the  most 
dainty  kinds  of  food.  When  all  was  in  readiness,  she 
went  out  one  day,  while  Waupee  was  absent,  to  the 
charmed  ring,  taking  her  little  son  with  her.  As  soon 
as  they  got  into  the  car,  she  commenced  her  song  and 
the  basket  rose.  As  the  song  was  wafted  by  the  wind, 
it  caught  her  husband's  ear.  It  was  a  voice  which 
he  well  knew,  and  he  instantly  ran  to  the  prairie.  But 
he  could  not  reach  the  ring  before  he  saw  his  wife  and 
child  ascend.  He  lifted  up  his  voice  in  loud  appeals* 
but  they  were  unavailing.  The  basket  still  went  up. 
He  watched  it  till  it  became  a  small  speck,  and  finally 
it  vanished  in  the  sky.  He  then  bent  his  head  down 
to  the  ground,  and  was  miserable. 

Waupee  bewailed  his  loss  through  a  long  winter  and 
a  long  summer.  But  he  found  no  relief.  He  mourned 
his  wife's  loss  sorely,  but  his  son's  still  more.  In  the 
mean  time  his  wife  had  reached  her  home  in  the  stars, 
and  almost  forgot,  in  the  blissful  employments  there, 
that  she  had  left  a  husband  on  the  earth.'  She  was  re- 
minded of  this  by  the  presence  of  her  son,  who,  as  he 
grew  up,  became  anxious  to  visit  the  scene  of  his  birth. 
His  grandfather  said  to  his  daughter  one  day,  "Go, 
my  child,  and  take  your  son  down  to  his  father,  and 
ask  him  to  come  up  and  live  with  us.  But  tell  him  to 
bring  along  a  specimen  of  each  kind  of  bird  and  ani- 


'  ! 


;      M 


.; 


' 


120      THE  STAR  family;    OR,  THE  CELESTIAL  SISTERS. 

mal  he  kills  in  the  chase."  She  accordingly  took  the 
boy  and  descended.  Waupee,  who  was  ever  near  the 
enchanted  spot,  heard  her  voice  as  she  came  down  the 
sky.  His  heart  beat  with  impatience  as  he  saw  her 
form  and  that  of  his  son,  and  they  were  soon  clasped 
in  his  arms. 

He  heard  the  message  of  the  Star,  and  began  to 
hunt  with  the  greatest  activity,  that  he  might  collect 
the  present.  He  spent  whole  nights,  as  well  as  days, 
in  searching  for  every  curious  and  beautiful  bird  or 
animal.  He  only  preserved  a  tail,  foot,  or  wing  of 
each,  to  identify  the  species;  and,  when  all  was  ready, 
they  went  to  the  circle  and  were  carried  up. 

Great  joy  was  manifested  on  their  arrival  at  the 
starry  plains.  The  Star  Chief  invited  all  his  people  to 
a  feast,  and,  when  they  had  assembled,  he  proclaimed 
aloud,  that  each  one  might  take  of  the  earthly  gifts 
such  as  he  liked  best.  A  very  strange  confusion  im- 
mediately arose.  Some  chose  a  foot,  some  a  wing, 
some  a  tail,  and  some  a  claw.  Those  who  selected 
tails  or  claws  were  changed  into  animals,  and  ran  off; 
tJie  others  assumed  the  form  of  birds,  and  flew  away. 
Waupee  chose  a  white  hawk's  feather.  His  wi)fe  and 
son  followed  his  example,  when  each  one  became  a 
white  hawk.  Pleased  with  his  transformation,  and  new 
vitality,  the  chief  spread  out  gracefully  his  white  wings, 
and  followed  by  his  wife  and  son,  descended  to  the 
earth,  where  the  species  are  still  to  be  found. 


i 


OJEEG  ANNUNG, 


i  * 


OR 


THE  SUMMER-MAKEll. 


ODJIBWA. 


usion  im- 


TiiEiiE  lived  a  celebrated  hunter  on  the  southern 
shores  of  Lake  Superior,  who  was  considered  a  Manito 
by  some,  for  there  was  nothing  but  what  he  could  ac- 
complish, lie  lived  off  the  path,  in  a  wild,  lonesome, 
place,  with  a  wife  whom  he  loved,  and  they  were  blessed 
with  a  son,  who  had  attained  his  thirteenth  year.  The 
hunter's  name  was  Ojeeg,  or  the  Fisher,  which  is  the 
name  of  an  expert,  sprightly  little  animal  common  to 
the  region.  He  was  so  successful  in  the  chase,  that  he 
seldom  returned  without  bringing  liis  wife  and  son  a 
plentiful  supply  of  venison,  or  other  dainties  of  the 
woods.  As  hunting  formed  his  constant  occupation, 
his  son  began  early  to  emulate  his  father  in  the  same 
employment,  and  would  take  his  bow  and  arrows,  and 
exert  his  skill  in  trying  to  kill  birds  and  squirrels.  The 
greatest  impediment  he  met  with,  was  the  coldness  and 


■••■  Thoro  is  a  group  of  stars  in  the  Nortliorn  hoinisplioro 
which  tho  Odjibwas  call  (If'trij  Auuuiuj,  or  the  Fislior  Stars. 
It  Ih  lioliovod  to  l)o  identical  with  the  group  of  the  Tlough. 
Thoy  relate  the  following  tale  respecting  it. 

n 


122 


0.1  EEG  annung;  or, 


severity  of  the  climate.  lie  often  returned  home,  his 
little  fingers  benumbed  with  cold,  and  crying  with  vex- 
ation at  his  disappointment.  Days,  and  months,  and 
years  passed  away,  but  still  the  same  perpetual  depth 
of  snow  was  seen,  covering  all  the  country  as  with  a 
white  cloak. 

One  day,  after  a  fruitless  trial  of  his  forest  skill,  the 
little  boy  was  returning  homeward  with  a  heavy  heart, 
when  he  saw  a  small  red  squirrel  gnawing  the  top  of  a 
pine  bur.  lie  had  approached  within  a  proper  dis- 
tance to  shoot,  when  the  squirrel  sat  up  on  its  hind  legs 
and  thus  addressed  him  : — 

"  My  grandchild,  put  up  your  arrows,  and  listen  to 
what  I  have  to  tell  you."  The  boy  complied  rather  re- 
luctantly, when  the  squirrel  continued :  **  My  son,  I 
see  you  pass  frequently,  with  your  fingers  benumbed 
with  cold,  and  crying  with  vexation  for  not  having 
killed  any  birds.  Now,  if  you  will  follow  my  advice, 
we  will  see  if  you  cannot  accomplish  your  wishes.  If 
you  will  strictly  pursue  my  advice,  we  will  have  per- 
petual summer,  and  you  will  then  have  the  pleasure  of 
killing  as  many  birds  as  you  please ;  and  I  will  also 
have  something  to  eat,  as  I  am  now  myself  on  the  point 
of  starvation. 

"  Listen  to  mc.  As  soon  as  you  get  home  you  must 
commence  crying.  You  must  throw  away  your  bow 
and  arrows  in  discontent.  If  your  mother  asks  you 
what  is  the  matter,  you  must  not  answer  her,  but  con- 
tinue crying  and  sobbing.  If  she  offers  you  anything 
to  eat,  you  must  push  it  away  with  apparent  discontent, 
and  continue  crying.  In  the  evening,  when  your  father 
returns  from  hunting,  he  will  inquire  of  your  mother 
what  is  the  matter  with  you.  She  will  answer  that  yo'i 
came  home  crying,  and  would  not  so  much  as  mention 


M 


THE  SUMMER-MAKER. 


123 


ne,  his 
U  vex- 
s,  and 
.  depth 
with  a 

ill,  the 
'  heart, 
op  of  a 
>er  dis- 
nd  legs 

isten  to 
ther  re- 
'  son,  I 
numbed 
having 
advice, 
lies.     If 
,ve  per- 
lasure  of 
ill  also 
e  point 

)u  must 
)ur  bow 
^ks  you 
)ut  con- 
|nything 
content, 
Ir  father 

mother 
|,hat  yu'i 

iention 


the  cause  to  her.  All  this  while  you  must  not  leave 
off  sobbing.  At  last  your  father  will  say,  '  My  son, 
why  is  this  unnecessary  grief?  Tell  me  the  cause. 
You  know  I  am  a  spirit,  and  that  nothing  is  impossible 
for  me  to  perform.'  You  must  then  answer  him,  and 
say  that  you  are  sorry  to  see  the  snow  continually  on 
the  ground,  and  ask  him  if  he  could  not  cause  it  to 
melt,  so  that  we  might  have  perpetual  summer.  Say  it 
in  a  supplicating  way,  and  tell  him  this  is  the  cause  of 
your  grief.  Your  father  will  reply,  '  It  is  very  hard  to 
accomplish  your  request,  but  for  your  sake,  and  for  my 
love  for  you,  I  will  use  my  utmost  endeavors.'  He  will 
tell  you  to  be  still,  and  cease  crying.  lie  will  try  to 
bring  summer  with  all  its  loveliness.  You  must  then 
be  quiet,  and  eat  that  which  is  set  before  you." 

The  squirrel  ceased.  The  boy  promised  obedience 
to  his  advice,  and  departed.  When  he  reached  home, 
he  did  as  he  had  been  instructed,  and  all  was  exactly 
fulfilled,  as  it  had  been  predicted  by  the  squirrel. 

Ojeegtold  him  that  it  was  a  great  undertaking.  lie 
must  first  make  a  feast,  and  invite  some  of  his  friends 
to  accompany  him  on  a  journey.  Next  day  he  had  a 
bear  roasted  whole.  All  who  had  been  invited  to  the 
feast  came  punctually  to  the  appointment.  There  were 
the  Otter,  Beaver,  Lynx,  Badger,  and  Wolverine. 
After  the  feast,  they  arranged  it  among  themselves  to 
set  out  on  the  contemplated  journey  in  three  days. 
When  the  time  arrived,  the  Fisher  took  leave  of  his 
wife  and  son,  as  he  foresaw  that  it  was  for  the  last  time. 
lie  and  iiis  companions  travelled  in  company  day  after 
day,  meeting  with  nothing  but  the  ordinary  incidents. 
On  the  twentieth  thiy  they  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  iiigh 
mountain,  where  they  saw  the  tracks  of  some  person 
who  had  recently  killed  au  animal,  which  they  knew  by 


iff 


124 


OJEEG  ANNUNG ;   OR, 


the  blood  that  marked  the  way.  The  Fisher  told  his 
friends  that  they  ought  to  follow  the  track,  and  see  if 
they  could  not  procure  something  to  cat.  They  fol- 
lowed it  for  some  time ;  at  last  they  arrived  at  a  lodge, 
which  had  been  hidden  from  their  view  by  a  hollow  in 
the  mountain.  Ojeeg  told  his  friends  to  be  very  sedate, 
and  not  to  laugh  on  any  account.  The  first  object  that 
they  saw  was  a  man  standing  at  the  door  of  the  lodge, 
but  of  so  deformed  a  shape  that  they  could  not  possi- 
bly make  out  who  or  what  sort  of  a  man  it  could  be. 
His  head  was  enormously  large ;  he  had  such  a  queer 
set  of  teeth,  and  no  arms.  They  wondered  how  he 
could  kill  animals.  But  the  secret  was  soon  revealed. 
He  was  a  great  Manito.  He  invited  them  to  pass  the 
night,  to  which  they  consented. 

He  boiled  his  meat  in  a  hollow  vessel  made  of  wood, 
and  took  it  out  of  this  singular  kettle  in  some  way  un- 
known to  his  guests.  lEe  carefully  gave  each  their 
portion  to  eat,  but  made  so  many  odd  movements  that 
the  Otter  could  not  refrain  from  laughing,  for  he  is 
the  only  one  who  is  spoken  of  as  a  jester.  The  Manito 
looked  at  him  with  a  terrible  look,  and  then  made  a 
spring  at  him,  and  got  on  him  to  smother  him,  for  that 
was  his  mode  of  killing  animals.  But  the  Otter,  when 
he  felt  him  on  his  neck,  slipped  his  head  back  and 
made  for  the  door,  which  he  passed  in  safety  ;  but  went 
out  with  the  curse  of  the  Manito.  The  others  passed 
the  night,  and  they  conversed  on  different  subjects. 
The  Manito  told  the  Fisher  that  he  would  accomplish 
his  object,  but  that  it  would  probably  cost  him  his  life. 
He  gave  them  his  advice,  directed  them  how  to  act, 
and  described  a  certain  road  which  they  must  follow, 
and  they  would  thereby  be  led  to  the  place  of  action. 

They  set  off  in  the  morning,  and  met  their  friend, 


THE  SUMMER-MAKER. 


125 


told  Ms 
ul  see  if 
'hey  fol- 
a  lodge, 
lollow  in 
^  sedate, 
)ject  that 
lie  lodge, 
lot  possi- 
could  be. 
h  a  queer 
1  how  he 
revealed. 
)  pass  the 

e  of  wood, 
c  way  un- 
each  their 
ments  that 
r,  for  he  is 
the  Manito 
en  made  a 
im,  for  that 
)tter,  when 
back  and 
;  but  went 
hers  passed 
nt  subjects, 
accomplisb 
him  his  life, 
how  to  act, 
must  follow, 
_  of  action, 
their  friend, 


the  Otter,  shivering  with  cold ;  but  Ojeeg  had  taken 
care  to  bring  along  some  of  the  meat  that  had  been 
given  him,  which  he  presented  to  his  friend.  They 
pursued  their  way,  and  travelled  twenty  days  more 
before  they  got  to  the  place  which  the  Manito  had 
told  them  of.  It  was  a  most  lofty  mountain.  They 
rested  on  its  highest  peak  to  fill  their  pipes  and  re- 
fresh themselves.  Before  smoking,  they  made  the  cus- 
tomary ceremony,  pointing  to  the  heavens,  the  four 
winds,  the  earth,  and  the  zenith ;  in  the  mean  time, 
speaking  in  a  loud  voice,  addressed  the  Great  Spirit, 
hoping  that  their  object  would  be  accomplished.  They 
then  commenced  smoking. 

They  gazed  on  the  sky  in  silent  admiration  and 
astonishment,  for  they  were  on  so  elevated  a  point,  that 
it  appeared  to  be  only  a  short  distance  above  their 
heads.  After  they  had  finished  smoking,  they  prepared 
themselves.  Oleeg  told  the  Otter  to  make  the  first 
attempt  to  try  and  make  a  hole  in  the  sky.  He  con- 
sented with  a  grin.  He  made  a  leap,  but  fell  down 
the  hill  stunned  by  the  force  of  his  fall ;  and  the  snow 
being  moist,  and  falling  on  his  back,  he  slid  with  velo- 
city down  the  side  of  the  mountain.  When  he  found 
himself  at  the  bottom,  he  thought  to  himself,  it  is  the 
last  time  I  make  such  another  jump,  so  I  will  make  the 
best  of  my  way  home.  Then  it  was  the  turn  of  the 
Beaver,  who  made  the  attempt,  but  fell  down  senseless  ; 
then  of  the  Lynx  and  Badger,  who  had  no  better  suc- 
cess. 

"Now,"  says  Fisher  to  the  Wolverine,  "try  your 

skill ;  your  ancestors  were  celebrated  for  their  activity, 

hardihood,  and  perseverance,  and  I  depend  on  you  for 

success.     Now  make  the  attempt."    He  did  so,  but 

also  without  success.     He  leaped  the  second  time,  but 

lit 


r 


-, — n — ,i,u.; 


126 


OJEEQ  ANNUNG ;    OR, 


now  they  could  see  that  the  sky  was  giving  way  to  their 
repeated  attempts.  Mustering  strength,  he  made  the 
third  leap,  and  went  in.  The  Fisher  nimbly  followed 
him. 

They  found  themselves  in  a  beautiful  plain,  extend- 
ing as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  covered  with  flowers 
of  a  thousand  different  hues  and  fragrance.  Here  and 
there  were  clusters  of  tall,  shady  trees,  separated  by 
innumerable  streams  of  the  purest  water,  which  wound 
around  their  courses  under  the  cooling  shades,  and 
filled  the  plain  with  countless  beautiful  lakes,  whose 
banks  and  bosom  were  covered  witlr  water-fowl,  bask- 
ing and  sporting  in  the  sun.  The  trees  were  alive  with 
birds  of  different  plumage,  warbling  their  sweet  notes, 
and  delighted  with  perpetual  spring. 

The  Fisher  and  his  friend  beheld  very  long  lodges, 
and  the  celestial  inhabitants  amusing  themselves  at  a 
distance.  Words  cannot  express  the  beauty  and  charms 
of  the  place.  The  lodges  were  empty  of  inhabitants, 
but  they  saw  them  lined  with  raocuks*  of  different 
sizes,  filled  with  birds  and  fowls  of  different  plumage. 
Ojeeg  thought  of  his  son,  and  immediately  commenced 
cutting  open  the  mocuks  and  letting  out  the  birds,  who 
descended  in  whole  flocks  through  the  opening  which 
they  had  made.  The  warm  air  of  those  regions  also 
rushed  down  through  the  opening,  and  spread  its  genial 
influence  over  the  north. 

When  the  celestial  inhabitants  saw  the  birds  let  loose, 
and  the  warm  gales  descending,  they  raised  a  shout 
like  thunder,  and  ran  for  their  lodges.  But  it  was 
too  late.  Spring,  summer,  and  autumn  had  gone  ; 
even  perpetual  summer  had  almost  all  gone  ;  but  they 


*  Baskets,  or  cages. 


THE  SUMMER-MAKER. 


121 


;o  their 
ide  the 
)Uowed 

extend- 
flowers 
ere  and 
ated  by 
1  wound 
ies,  and 
s,  whose 
ivl,  bask- 
tlive  with 
set  notes, 


separated  it  with  a  blow,  and  only  a  part  descended ; 
but  the  ends  were  so  mangled,  that,  wherever  it 
prevails  among  the  lower  inhabitants,  it  is  always 
sickly.* 

When  the  Wolverine  heard  the  noise,  he  made  for 
the  opening  and  safely  descended.  Not  so  the  Fisher. 
Anxious  to  fulfil  his  son's  wishes,  he  continued  to 
break  open  the  mocuks.  He  was,  at  last,  obliged  to 
run  also,  but  the  opening  was  now  closed  by  the  in- 
habitants. He  ran  with  all  his  might  over  the  plains 
of  heaven,  and,  it  would  appear,  took  a  northerly  di- 
rection. He  saw  his  pursuers  so  close  that  he  had  to 
climb  the  first  large  tree  he  came  to.  They  commenced 
shooting  at  him  with  their  arrows,  but  without  eflTect, 
for  all  his  body  was  invulnerable  except  the  space  of 
about  an  inch  near  the  tip  of  his  tail.  At  last  one  of 
the  arrows  hit  the  spot,  for  he  had  in  this  chase  as- 
sumed the  shape  of  the  Fisher  after  whom  he  was 
named. 

He  looked  down  from  the  tree,  and  saw  some  among 
his  assailants  with  the  totemsf  of  his  ancestors.  He 
claimed  relationship,  and  told  them  to  desist,  which 
they  only  did  at  the  approach  of  night.  He  then  came 
down  to  try  and  find  an  opening  in  the  celestial  plain, 
by  which  he  might  descend  to  the  earth.  But  he 
could  find  none.  At  last,  becoming  faint  from  the 
loss  of  blood  from  the  wound  on  his  tail,  he  laid  him- 
self down  towards  the  north  of  the  plain,  and,  stretching 
out  his  limbs,  said,  "I  have  fulfilled  my  promise  to  my 


*  Tlie  idea  here  imlioatcd  is  among  the  peculiar  notions  of 
these  tribes,  and  is  grafted  in  the  forma  of  tlieir  hinguage, 
which  will  be  pointed  out  in  the  progress  of  these  researches. 

t  Family  arms,  or  armorial  mark. 


t  I 


I 


128      OJEEQ  annung;  or,  the  summer-maker. 

son,  though  it  has  cost  me  my  life  ;  but  I  die  satisfied 
in  the  idea  that  I  have  done  so  much  good,  not  only 
for  him,  but  for  my  fellow-beings.  Hereafter  I  will  be 
a  sign  to  the  inhabitants  below  for  ages  to  come,  who 
will  venerate  my  name  for  having  succeeded  in  pro- 
curing the  varying  seasons.  They  will  now  have  from 
eight  to  ten  moons  without  snow." 

He  was  found  dead  next  morning,  but  they  left 
him  as  they  found  him,  with  the  arrow  sticking  in  his 
tail,  as  it  can  be  plainly  seen,  at  this  time,  in  the  hea- 
vens. 


'1 


CHILEELI, 


OR 


THE  RED  LOVER. 


ODJIBWA. 


4 


Many  years  ago  there  lived  a  warrior  on  the  banks 
of  Lake  Superior,  whose  name  was  Wawanosh.  lie 
was  the  chief  of  an  ancient  family  of  his  tribe,  who 
had  preserved  the  line  of  chieftainship  unbroken  from 
a  remote  time,  and  he  consequently  cherished  a  pride 
of  ancestry.  To  the  reputation  of  birth  he  added  the 
advantages  of  a  tall  and  commanding  person,  and  the 
dazzling  qualities  of  personal  strength,  courage,  and 
activity.  His  bow  was  noted  for  its  size,  and  the  feats 
he  had  performed  with  it.  His  counsel  was  sought  as 
much  as  his  strength  was  feared,  so  that  he  came  to  be 
equally  regarded  as  a  hunter,  a  warrior,  and  a  coun- 
sellor. He  had  now  passed  the  meridian  of  his  days, 
and  the  term  Akkee-waizee,  i.  e.,  one  who  has  been 
long  on  the  earth,  was  applied  to  him. 

Such  was  Wawanosh,  to  whom  the  united  voice  of 
the  nation  awarded  the  first  place  in  their  esteem,  and 
the  highest  authority  in  council.  But  distinction,  it 
seems,  is  apt  to  engender  haughtiness  in  the  hunter 
state  as  well  as  civilized  life.     Pride  was  his  ruling 


i 


130 


CHILEELI;   OR, 


passion,  and  he  clung  with  tenacity  to  the  distinctions 
wliich  he  regarded  as  an  inheritance. 

Wawanosh  had  an  only  daughter,  who  had  now 
lived  to  witness  the  budding  of  the  leaves  of  the  eigh- 
teenth spring.  Her  father  was  not  more  celebrated  for 
his  deeds  of  strength  than  she  for  her  gentle  virtues, 
her  slender  form,  her  full  beaming  hazel  eyes,  and  her 
dark  and  flowing  hair. 

"  And  through  her  cheek 
The  blush  would  make  its  way,  and  all  but  speak. 
The  sunborn  blood  suflFused  her  neck,  and  threw 
O'er  her  clear  brown  skin  a  lucid  hue, 
Like  coral  reddening  through  the  darken'd  wave, 
Which  draws  the  diver  to  the  crimson  cave." 

Her  hand  was  sought  by  a  young  man  of  humble 
parentage,  who  had  no  other  merits  to  recommend  him 
but  such  as  might  arise  from  a  tall  and  commanding 
person,  a  manly  step,  and  an  eye  beaming  with  the  tro- 
pical fires  of  youth  and  love.  These  were  sufficient  to 
attract  the  favorable  notice  of  the  daughter,  but  were 
by  no  means  satisfactory  to  the  father,  who  sought  an 
alliance  more  suitable  to  the  rank  and  the  high  pre- 
tensions of  his  family. 

"  Listen  to  me,  young  man,"  he  replied  to  the  trem- 
bling hunter,  who  had  sought  the  interview,  "and  be 
attentive  to  my  words.  You  ask  me  to  bestow  upon 
you  my  daughter,  the  chief  solace  of  my  age,  and  my 
choicest  gift  from  the  Master  of  Life.  Others  have 
asked  of  me  this  boon,  who  were  as  young,  as  active, 
and  as  ardent  as  yourself.  Some  of  these  persons 
have  had  better  claims  to  become  my  son-in-law.  Have 
you  reflected  upon  the  deeds  which  have  raised  me  in 
authority,  and  made  my  name  known  to  the  enemies  of 
my  nation  ?    Whore  is  there  a  chief  who  is  not  proud  to 


THE  RED  LOVER. 


131 


trera- 
nd  be 

upon 
id  my 

have 
ictive, 

JH 

ersons 
Have 

:^| 

me  in 
ies  of 
mdto 

1 
1 

be  considered  the  friend  of  Wawanosh  ?  Where,  in  all 
the  land,  is  there  a  hunter  who  has  excelled  Wawanosh  ? 
Where  is  there  a  warrior  who  can  boast  the  taking  of 
an  equal  number  of  scalps  ?  Besides,  have  you  not 
heard  that  my  fathers  came  from  the  East,  bearing  the 
marks  of  chieftaincy  ? 

"  And  what,  young  man,  have  you  to  boast  ?  Have 
you  ever  met  your  enemies  in  the  field  of  battle  ?  Have 
you  ever  brought  home  a  trophy  of  victory  ?  Have  you 
ever  proved  your  fortitude  by  sutfering  protracted  pain, 
enduring  continued  hunger,  or  sustaining  great  fatigue? 
Is  your  name  known  beyond  the  humble  limits  of  your 
native  village  ?  Go,  then,  young  man,  and  earn  a  name 
for  yourself.  It  is  none  but  the  brave  that  can  ever 
hope  to  claim  an  alliance  with  the  house  of  Wawanosh. 
Think  not  .ny  warrior  blood  shall  mingle  with  the  hum- 
ble mark  of  the  Awasees* — fit  totem  for  fishermen  !" 

The  intimidated  lover  departed,  but  he  resolved  to 
do  a  deed  that  should  render  him  worthy  of  the 
daughter  of  Wawanosh,  or  die  in  the  attempt.  lie 
called  t9gether  several  of  his  young  companions  and 
equals  in  years,  and  imparted  to  them  his  design  of 
conducting  an  expedition  against  the  enemy,  and  re- 
quested their  assistance.  Several  embraced  the  pro- 
posal immediately ;  others  were  soon  brought  to 
acquiesce ;  and,  before  ten  suns  set,  he  saw  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  formidable  party  of  young  warriors,  all 
eager,  like  himself,  to  distinguish  themselves  in  battle. 
Each  warrior  was  armed,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  period,  with  a  bow  and  a  quiver  of  arrows,  tipped 
with  flint  or  jasper.  He  carried  a  sack  or  walle^,  pro- 
vided with  a  small  quantity  of  parched  and  pounded 

*  Catfish. 


132 


CUILEELl;    OR, 


corn,  mixed  with  pemmican  or  maple  sugar.  He  was 
furnished  with  a  Puggamauoun,  or  war-club  of  hard 
wood,  fastened  to  a  girdle  of  deer  skin,  and  a  stone  or 
copper  knife.  In  addition  to  this,  some  carried  the 
ancient  shemagun,  or  lance,  a  smooth  pole  about  a 
fathom  in  length,  with  a  javelin  of  flint,  firmly  tied  on 
with  deer's  sinews.  Thus  equipped,  and  each  warrior 
painted  in  a  manner  to  suit  his  fancy,  and  ornamented 
with  appropriate  feathers,  they  repaired  to  the  spot 
appointed  for  the  war-dance. 

A  level,  grassy  plain  extended  for  nearly  a  mile  from 
the  lodge  of  Wawanosh  along  the  lake  shore.  Lodges 
of  bark  were  promiscuously  interspersed  over  this  green, 
and  here  and  there  a  cluster  of  trees,  or  a'  solitary  tall 
pine.  A  belt  of  yellow  sand  skirted  the  lake  shore  in 
front,  and  a  tall,  thick  forest  formed  the  background. 
In  the  centre  of  this  plain  stood  a  high  shattered  pine, 
with  a  clear  space  about,  renowned  as  the  scene  of  the 
war-dance  time  out  of  mind.  Here  the  youths  as- 
sembled, with  their  tall  and  graceful  leader,  distin- 
guished by  the  feathers  of  the  bald  eagle,  which  he 
wore  on  his  head.  A  bright  fire  of  pine  wood  blazed 
upon  the  green.  He  led  his  men  several  times  around 
this  fire,  with  a  measured  and  solemn,  chant.*  Then 
suddenly  halting,  the  war-whoop  was  raised,  and  the 
dance  immediately  began.  An  old  man,  sitting  at  the 
head  of  the  ring,  beat  time  upon  the  drum,  while  sev- 
eral of  the  elder  warriors  shook  their  rattles,  and 
"  ever  and  anon"  made  the  woods  re-echo  with  their 
yells.  Each  warrior  chanted  alternately  the  verse  of  a 
song,  of  which  the  words  generally  embraced  some 
prominent  idea,  often  repeated. 

*  Notes  of  the  Pibbigwun. 


T  HE  RED  LOVEtt.  1  33 

Tlio  eagles  scream  on  lugli, 

They  whet  their  forked  beaks  : 
Raise — raise  the  battle  cry, 

'Tis  fame  our  leader  seeks. 

Thus  they  continued  the  dance,  till  each  had  introduced 
his  verse,  with  short  intermissions,  for  two  successive 
days  and  nights.  Sometimes  the  village  seer,  who  led 
the  ceremony,  would  embrace  the  occasion  of  a  pause 
to  address  them  with  words  of  encouragement,  in  a 
prophetic  voice  and  air,  suited  to  raise  their  voices. 

In  the  dreamy  hours  of  night 
I  beheld  the  bloody  fight. 
As  reclined  upon  my  bed, 
Holy  visions  crowned  my  head  ; 
High  our  guardian  spirit  bright 
Stood  above  the  dreadful  fight ; 
Beaming  eye  and  dazzling  brand 
Gleamed  upon  my  chosen  band, 
While  a  black  and  awful  shade 
O'er  the  faithless  foeman  spread. 
Soon  they  wavered,  sunk,  and  fled, 
Leaving  wounded,  dying,  dead. 
While  my  gallant  warriors  high 
Waved  their  trophies  in  the  sky. 

At  every  recurrence  of  this  kind,  new  energy  was  in^ 
fused  into  the  dance,  and  the  warriors  renewed  their 
gesticulations,  and  stamped  upon  the  ground  as  if  they 
were  trampling  their  enemies  under  their  feet. 

At  length  the  prophet  uttered  his  final  prediction  of 
success ;  and  the  warriors  dropping  ofiF,  one  by  one, 
from  the  fire,  took  their  way  to  the  place  appointed  for 
the  rendezvous,  on  the  confines  of  the  enemy's  country. 
Their  leader  was  not  among  the  last  to  depart,  but  he 
did  not  leave  the  village  without  seeking  an  interview 
with  the  daughter  of  Wawanosh.  He  disclosed  to  her 
12 


r 


134 


CHILEELI;    OR, 


his  firm  determination  never  to  return,  unless  he  could 
establish  his  name  as  a  warrior.  He  told  her  of  the 
pangs  he  had  felt  at  the  bitter  reproaches  of  her  father, 
and  declared  that  his  soul  spurned  the  imputation  of 
effeminacy  and  cowardice  implied  by  his  language.  He 
averred  that  he  could  never  be  happy  until  he  had 
proved  to  the  whole  tribe  the  strength  of  his  heart, 
which  is  the  Indian  term  for  courage.  He  said  that 
his  dreams  had  not  been  propitious,  but  he  should  not 
cease  to  invoke  the  power  of  the  Great  Spirit.  He 
repeated  his  protestations  of  inviolable  attachment, 
which  she  returned,  and,  pledging  vows  of  mutual 
fidelity,  they  parted. 

That  parting  proved  final.  All  she  «ver  heard  from 
her  lover  after  this  interview  was  brought  by  one  of 
his  successful  warriors,  who  said  that  he  had  distin- 
guished himself  by  the  most  heroic  bravery,  but,  at  the 
close  of  the  fight,  he  had  received  an  arrow  in  his 
breast.  The  enemy  fled,  leaving  many  of  their  war- 
riors dead  on  the  field.  On  examining  the  wound,  it 
was  perceived  to  be  beyond  their  power  to  cure.  They 
carried  him  towards  home  a  day's  journey,  but  he  lan- 
guished and  expired  in  the  arms  of  his  friends.  From 
the  moment  the  report  was  received,  no  smile  was  ever 
seen  in  the  once  happy  lodge  of  Wawanosh.  His 
daughter  pined  away  by  day  and  by  night.  Tears, 
sighs,  and  lamentation,  were  heard  continually.  No- 
thing could  restore  her  lost  serenity  of  mind.  Persua- 
sives and  reproofs  were  alternately  employed,  but  em- 
])loyed  in  vain.  She  would  seek  a  sequestered  spot, 
where  she  would  sit  under  a  shady  tree,  and  sing  her 
mournful  laments  for  hours  together.  Passages  of 
these  arc  yet  repeated  by  tradition. 

It  was  not  long  before  a  small  bird  of  beautiful  plu- 


THE  RED  LOVER. 


135 


mage  flew  upon  the  tree  under  which  she  usually  sat. 
This  mysterious  visitor,  which,  from  its  sweet  and  art- 
less notes,  is  called  Chileeli,  seemed  to  respond  in  sym- 
pathy t^  her  plaintive  voice.  It  was  a  strange  bird, 
such  as  had  not  before  been  observed.  It  came  every 
day  and  remained  chanting  its  notes  till  nightfall ;  and 
when  it  left  its  perch  on  the  tree,  it  seemed,  from  the 
delicate  play  of  the  colors  of  its  plumage,  as  if  it  had 
taken  its  hues  from  the  rainbow.  Ilerfond  imagination 
soon  led  her  to  suppose  it  was  the  spirit  of  her  lover,  and 
her  visits  to  the  sequestered  spot  were  repeated  more 
frequently.  She  passed  much  of  her  time  in  fasting 
and  singing  her  plaintive  songs.  There  she  pined 
away,  taking  little  nourishment,  and  constantly  de- 
siring to  pass  away  to  that  land  of  expected  bliss  and 
freedom  from  care,  where  it  I.,  believed  that  the  spirits 
of  men  will  be  again  reunited,  and  tread  over  fields 
of  flowery  enjoyment.  And  when  death  ame  to  her, 
it  was  not  as  the  bearer  of  gloom  and  regrets,  but  as 
the  herald  of  happiness.  After  her  decease,  the  myste- 
rious bird  was  never  moi  o  seen,  and  it  became  a  popu- 
lar opinion  that  the  mysterious  visitor  hud  flown  away 
with  her  spirit.* 


*  Notes  of  tlie  Pibbigwun. 


[ul  plu- 


SIIEEM, 


THE  FORSAKEN  BOY  OR  WOLF  BROTHER. 


AN  ODJIBWA  ALLEGORY  OP  FRATERNAL  AFFECTION. 


t  !  ! 


i  I 

\     I 


\ 

hi 


A  SOLITARY  lodge  stood  on  the  banks  of  a  remote 
lake.  It  was  near  the  hour  of  sunset.  Silence  reigned 
within  and  without.  Not  a  sound  was  heard  but  the 
low  breathing  of  the  dying  inmate  and  head  of  this 
poor  family.  His  wife  and  three  children  surrounded 
his  bed.  Two  of  the  latter  were  almost  grown  up  : 
the  other  was  a  mere  child.  All  their  simple  skill  in 
medicine  had  been  exhausted  to  no  effect.  They  moved 
about  the  lodge  in  whispers,  and  were  waiting  the  de- 
parture of  the  spirit.  As  one  of  the  last  acts  of  kind- 
ness, the  skin  door  of  the  lodge  had  been  thrown  back 
to  admit  the  fresh  air.  The  poor  man  felt  a  momen- 
tary return  of  strength,  and,  raising  himself  a  little, 
addressed  his  family. 

"  I  leave  you  in  a  world  of  care,  in  which  it  has  re- 
quired all  my  strength  and  skill  to  supply  you  food, 
and  protect  you  from  the  storms  and  cold  of  a  severe 
climate.  For  you,  my  partner  in  life,  I  have  less  sor- 
row in  parting,  because  I  am  i)ersuaded  you  will  not 
remain  long  behind  me,  and  will  therefore  find  the 
period  of  your  sufferings  shortened.     Uut  you,  my 


^ 


up  : 

lOVcd 
le  de- 
kind- 
back 
•men- 
little, 

las  re- 
food, 
severe 
|s  8or- 
U  not 
Id  the 
|u,  my 


SHEEM;    THE  FORSAKEN  BOY  OR  WOLF  BROTHER.      131 

children  1  my  poor  and  forsaken  cliildren,  who  have  just 
commenced  the  career  of  life,  who  will  protect  you 
from  its  evils  ?  Listen  to  my  words  1  Unkindness, 
ingratitude,  and  every  wickedness  is  in  the  scene  be- 
fore you.  It  is  for  this  cause  that,  years  ago,  I  with- 
drew from  my  kindred  and  my  tribe,  to  spend  my  days 
in  this  lonely  spot.  I  have  contented  myself  with  the 
company  of  your  mother  and  yourselves  during  seasons 
of  very  frequent  scarcity  and  want,  while  your  kindred, 
feasting  in  a  scene  where  food  is  plenty,  have  caused 
the  forests  to  echo  with  the  shouts  of  successful  war. 
I  gave  up  these  things  for  the  enjoyment  of  peace.  I 
wished  to  shield  you  from  the  bad  examples  you  would 
inevitably  have  followed.  I  have  seen  you,  thus  far, 
grow  ;  ;•  in  innocence.  If  we  have  sometimes  suffered 
bodiij  p  ,  we  have  escaped  pain  of  mind.*  We 
have  b.  '    i..ept  from  scenes  of  rioting  and  bloodshed. 

"  My  career  is  now  at  its  close.  I  will  shut  my  eyes 
in  peace,  if  you,  my  children,  will  promise  me  to  cherish 
each  other.  Let  not  your  mother  suffer  during  the  few 
days  that  are  left  to  her;  and  I  charge  you,  on  no  ac- 
count, to  forsake  your  youngest  brother.  Of  him  I 
give  you  both  my  dying  charge  to  take  a  tender  care." 
He  sank  exhausted  on  his  pallet.  The  family  waited  a 
moment,  as  if  expecting  to  hear  something  further;  but, 
when  they  came  to  his  side,  the  spirit  had  taken  its 
flight. 

The  mother  and  daughter  gave  vent  to  their  feelings 
in  lamentations.  The  elder  son  witnessed  the  scene  in 
silence.  He  soon  exerted  himself  to  supply,  with  the 
bow  and  net,  his  father's  place.     Time,  however,  wore 

*  We.'^ug.aiiuluin,  moaning  pain  or  bittornoss  of  mind,  is  a 
singlo  oxprossiou  in  tho  original.     It  is  a  trinary  comiKJund. 

12* 


i 


$■ 


n 


3  I 

9  I 

3  I' 


I 


I' 


138 


SIIEEM ; 


away  heavily.  Five  moons  had  filled  and  waned,  and 
the  sixth  was  near  its  full,  when  the  mother  also  died. 
In  her  last  moments  she  pressed  the  fulfilment  of  their 
promise  to  their  father,  which  the  children  readily  re- 
newed, because  they  were  yet  free  from  selfish  motives. 

The  winter  passed ;  and  the  spring,  with  its  enliven- 
ing effects  in  a  northern  hemisphere,  cheered  the  droop- 
ing spirits  of  the  bereft  little  family.  The  girl,  being 
the  eldest,  dictated  to  her  brothers,  and  seemed  to  feel 
a  tender  and  sisterly  affection  for  the  youngest,  who 
was  rather  sickly  and  delicate.  The  other  boy  soon 
showed  symptoms  of  restlessness  and  ambition,  and  ad- 
dressed the  sister  as  follows :  "My  sister,  are  we  always 
to  live  as  if  there  were  no  other  human  beings  in  the 
world  ?  Must  I  deprive  myself  of  the  pleasure  of  asso- 
ciating with  my  own  kind  ?  I  have  determined  this 
question  for  myself.  I  shall  seek  the  villages  of  men, 
and  you  cannot  prevent  me." 

The  sister  replied :  "  I  do  not  say  no,  my  brother,  to 
what  you  desire.  "We  are  not  prohibited  the  society  of 
our  fellow-mortals;  but  we  are  told  to  cherish  each 
other,  and  to  do  nothing  independent  of  each  other. 
Neither  pleasure  nor  pain  ought,  therefore,  to  separate 
us,  especially  from  our  younger  brother,  who  being  but 
a  child,  and  weakly  withal,  is  entitled  to  a  double  share 
of  our  affection.  If  we  follow  our  separate  gratifica- 
tions, it  will  surely  make  us  neglect  him,  whom  we  are 
bound  by  vows,  both  to  our  father  and  mother,  to  sup- 
port." The  young  man  received  this  address  in  silence. 
Ho  appeared  daily  to  grow  more  restive  and  moody, 
and  one  day,  taking  his  bow  and  arrows,  left  the  lodge 
and  never  returned. 

Affection  nerved  the  sister's  arm.  She  was  not  so 
Ignorant  of  the  forest  arts  as  to  let  her  brother  want. 


THE  FORSAKEN  BOY  OR  WOLF  BROTHER. 


139 


)t  SO 


For  a  long  time  she  administered  to  his  necessities,  and 
supplied  a  mother's  cares.  At  length,  however,  she 
began  to  be  weary  of  solitude  and  of  her  charge.  No 
one  came  to  be  a  witness  of  her  assiduity,  or  to  let  fall 
a  single  word  in  her  native  language.  Years,  which 
added  to  her  strength  and  capability  of  directing  the 
affairs  of  the  household,  brought  with  them  the  irrepres- 
sible desire  of  society,  and  made  solitude  irksome.  At 
this  point,  selfishness  gained  the  ascendency  of  her 
heart ;  for,  in  meditating  a  change  in  her  mode  of  life, 
she  lost  sight  of  her  younger  brother,  and  left  him  to 
be  provided  for  by  contingencies. 

One  day,  after  collecting  all  the  provisions  she  had 
been  able  to  save  for  emergencies,  after  bringing  a 
quantity  of  wood  to  the  door,  she  said  to  her  little 
brother:  "My  brother,  you  must  not  stray  from  the 
lodge.  I  am  going  to  seek  our  elder  brother.  I  shall 
be  back  soon."  Then,  taking  her  bundle,  she  set  off 
in  search  of  habitations.  She  sooh  found  them,  and 
was  so  much  token  up  with  the  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments of  social  life,  that  the  thought  of  her  brother 
was  almost  entirely  obliterated.  She  accepted  pro- 
posals of  marriage;  and,  after  that,  thought  still  less 
of  her  hapless  and  abandoned  relative. 

Meantime  her  elder  brother  had  also  married,  and 
lived  on  the  shores  of  the  same  lake  whose  ample  cir- 
cuit contained  the  abandoned  lodge  of  his  father  and 
his  forsaken  brother.  The  latter  was  soon  brought  to 
the  pinching  turn  of  his  fate.  As  soon  as  he  had  eaten 
all  the  food  left  by  his  sister,  he  was  obliged  to  pick 
berries  and  dig  up  roots.  These  were  finally  covered 
by  the  snow.  Winter  came  on  with  all  its  rigors. 
lie  was  obliged  to  quit  the  lodge  in  search  of  other 
food.     Sometimes  he  passed  the  night  in  the  clefts  of 


i 


140 


SHEEM ; 


old  trees  or  caverns,  and  ate  the  refuse  meals  of  the 
wolves.  The  latter,  at  last,  became  his  only  resource  ; 
and  he  became  so  fearless  of  these  animals  that  he  would 
sit  close  by  them  while  they  devoured  their  prey.  The 
wolves,  on  the  other  hand,  became  so  familiar  with 
his  face  and  form,  that  they  were  undisturbed  by  his 
approach ;  and,  appearing  to  sympathize  with  him  in 
his  outcast  condition,  would  always  leave  something  for 
his  repast.  In  this  way  he  lived  till  spring.  As  soon 
as  the  lake  was  free  from  ice,  he  followed  his  new-found 
friends  themselves  to  the  shore.  It  happened,  the  same 
day,  that  his  elder  brother  was  fishing  in  his  canoe,  a  con- 
siderable distance  out  in  the  lake,  when  he  thought  he 
heard  the  cries  of  a  child  on  the  shore,  and  wondered  how 
any  could  exist  on  so  bleak  and  barren  a  part  of  the  coast, 
he  listened  again  attentively,  and  distinctly  heard  the 
cry  repeated.  He  made  for  shore  as  quick  as  possible, 
and,  as  he  approached  land,  discovered  and  recognized 
his  little  brother,  and  heard  him  singing,  in  a  plaintive 
voice — 

Neesia — neesia,  ^ 

Shyegwuh  goosuh  1 

Ni  my  een  gwun  iewh ! 

Ni  my  eou  gwun  iewh  ! 
Heo  hwooh. 
My  brother — my  brother, 
Ah  1  see,  I  am  turning  into  a  wolf.* 

At  the  termination  of  his  song,  which  was  drawn  out 
with  a  peculiar  cadence,  he  howled  like  a  wolf.  The 
elder  brother  was  still  more  astonished,  when,  getting 
nearer  shore,  he  perceived  his  poor  brother  partly  trans- 
formed into  that  animal.     He  immediately  leaped  on 

*  Notes  of  the  Pibbigwun. 


THE  FORSAKEN  BOY  OR  WOLF  BROTHER. 


141 


shore,  and  strove  to  catch  him  in  his  arms,  soothinp^ly 
saying,  "  My  brother,  my  brother,  come  to  me."  But 
the  boy  elnded  his  grasp,  crying  as  he  fled,  "  Neesia, 
neesia,"  &c.,  and  howling  in  the  intervals. 

The  elder  brother,  conscience  stricken,  and  feeling  his 
brotherly  affection  strongly  return,  with  redoubled 
force  exclaimed,  in  grer*^  anguish,  "  My  brother  I  my 
brother  I  my  broti    .  1 

But,  the  nearer  he  approached,  the  more  rapidly  the 
transformation  went  on;  the  boy  alternately  singing 
and  howling,  and  calling  out  the  name,  first  of  his 
brother,  and  then  of  his  sister,  till  the  change  was  com- 
pletely accomplished,  when  he  exclaimed,  "I  am  a 
wolf  1"  and  bounded  out  of  sight. 


lii; 


1^ 


r 


)Ut 

^he 

ling 
1ns- 

on 


^1 


?» 


I 


I 


1 


MISIIEMOKWA, 


OB 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR  WEARING 

THE   PRECIOUS  PRIZE  OF  THE  NECKLACE  OF 
WAMPUM, 


OB 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  SMALL  BLACK  BEAR. 


AN  OTTOWA  LEGEND. 


In  a  remote  part  of  the  north  lived  a  great  magician 
called  Iamo,  and  his  only  sister,  who  had  never  seen 
human  being.  Seldom,  if  ever,  had  the  man  any  cause 
to  go  from  home;  for,  as  his  wants  demanded  food,  he 
had  only  to  go  a  little  distance  from  the  lodge,  and  there, 
in  some  particular  spot,  place  his  arrows,  with  their 
barbs  in  the  ground.  Telling  his  sister  where  they  had 
been  placed,  every  morning  she  would  go  in  search, 
and  never  fail  of  finding  each  struck  through  the  heart 
of  a  deer.  She  had  then  only  to  drag  them  into  the 
lodge  and  prepare  their  food.  Thus  she  lived  till  she 
attained  womanhood,  when  one  day  her  brother  said  to 
her,  "Sister,  the  time  is  near  at  hand  when  you  will  be 
ill.  Listen  to  my  advice.  If  you  do  not,  it  will  prob- 
ably be  the  cause  of  my  death.     Take  the  implements 


mishemokwa;  or,  the  war  with  the  bear,  etc.  143 


:e, 


with  which  we  kindle  our  fires.  Go  some  distance  from 
our  lodge,  and  build  a  separate  fire.  When  you  are  in 
want  of  food,  I  will  tell  you  where  to  find  it.  You  must 
cook  for  yourself,  and  I  will  for  myself.  When  you  are 
ill,  do  not  attempt  to  come  near  the  lodge,  or  bring  any 
of  the  utensils  you  use.  Be  sure  always  to  fasten  to 
your  belt  the  implements  you  need,  for  you  do  not  know 
when  the  time  will  come.  As  for  myself,  I  must  do  the 
best  I  can."  His  sister  promised  to  obey  him  in  all  he 
had  said. 

Shortly  after,  her  brother  had  cause  to  go  from  home. 
She  was  alone  in  her  lodge,  combing  her  hair.  She  had 
just  untied  the  belt  to  which  the  implements  were 
fastened,  when  suddenly  the  event,  to  which  l.er  brother 
had  alluded,  occurred.  She  ran  out  of  the  lodge,  but 
in  her  haste  forgot  the  belt.  Afraid  to  return,  she  stood 
for  some  time  thinking.  Finally  she  decided  to  enter 
the  lodge  and  get  it.  For,  thought  she,  my  brother  is  not 
at  home,  and  I  will  stay  but  a  moment  to  catch  hold  of 
it.  She  went  back.  Running  in  suddenly,  she  caught 
hold  of  it,  and  was  coming  oat  when  her  brother  came 
in  sight.  He  knew  what  was  the  matter.  "Oh,"  he 
said,  "did  I  not  tell  you  to  take  care?  But  now  you 
have  killed  me."  She  was  going  on  her  way,  but  her 
brother  said  to  her,  "What  can  you  do  there  now?  the 
accident  has  happened.  Go  in,  and  stay  where  you  have 
always  stayed.  And  what  will  become  of  you?  You 
have  killed  me." 

He  then  laid  aside  his  hunting  dress  and  accoutre- 
ments, and  soon  after  both  his  feet  began  to  inflame  and 
turn  black,  so  that  he  could  not  move.  Still  he  directed 
his  sister  where  to  place  the  arrows,  that  she  might 
always  have  food.  The  inflammation  continued  to  in- 
crease, and  had  now  reached  his  first  rib ;  and  he  said^ 


144 


MISIIEMOKWA;    OR, 


"Sister,  my  end  is  near.  Yon  must  do  as  I  tell  you. 
You  see  my  medicine-sack,  and  my  war-club  tied  to  it. 
It  contains  all  my  medicines,  and  my  war-plumes,  and 
my  paints  of  all  colors.  As  soon  as  the  inflammation 
reaches  my  breast,  you  will  take  my  war-club.  It  has 
a  sharp  point,  and  you  will  cut  oflF  my  head.  When  it 
is  free  from  my  body,  take  it,  place  its  neck  in  the  sack, 
which  you  must  open  at  one  end  Then  hang  it  up  in 
its  former  place.  Do  not  forget  my  bow  and  arrows. 
One  of  the  last  you  will  take  to  procure  food.  The 
remainder  tie  to  my  sack,  and  then  hang  it  up,  so  that 
I  can  look  towards  the  door.  Now  and  then  I  will 
Speak  to  you,  but  not  often."  His  sister  again  promised 
to  obey. 

(  In  a  little  time  his  breast  was  aflfectcd.  "  Now,"  said 
he,  "take  the  club  and  strike  off  ray  head."  She  was 
afraid,  but  he  told  her  to  muster  courage.  '' Strike, ^^ 
said  he,  and  a  smile  was  on  his  face.  Mustering  all 
her  courage,  she  gave  the  blow  and  cut  off  the  head. 
"Now,"  said  the  head,  "place  me  where  I  told  you." 
And  fearfully  she  obeyed  it  in  all  its  commands.  Retain- 
ing its  animation,  it  looked  around  the  lodge  as  usual, 
and  it  would  command  its  sister  to  go  to  such  places  as 
it  thought  would  procure  for  her  the  flesh  of  different 
animals  she  needed.  One  day  the  head  said,  "  The  time 
is  not  distant  when  I  shall  be  freed  from  this  situation, 
but  I  shall  have  to  undego  many  sore  evils.  So  the 
Superior  Manito  decrees,  and  I  must  bear  all  patiently." 
In  this  situation  we  must  leave  the  head. 

In  a  certain  part  of  the  country  was  a  village  inhabited 
by  a  numerous  and  warlike  band  of  Indians.  In  this 
village  was  a  family  of  ten  young  men — brothers.  It  was 
in  the  spring  of  the  year  that  the  youngest  of  these 
blackened  his  face  and  fasted.     His  dreams  were  pro- 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR,  ETC.         145 


IS 
it 

'i 
le 

» 

[is 

IS 

se 

10- 


pitious.  Having  ended  his  fast,  he  sent  secretly  for 
his  brothers  at  night,  so  that  none  in  the  village  could 
overhear  or  find  out  the  direction  they  intended  to  go. 
Though  their  drum  was  heard,  yet  that  was  a  common 
occurrence.  Having  ended  the  usual  formalities,  he 
told  them  how  favorable  his  dreams  were,  and  that  he 
had  called  them  together  to  know  if  they  would  accom- 
pany him  in  a  war  excursion.  They  all  answered  they 
would.  The  third  brother  from  the  eldest,  noted  for 
his  oddities,  coming  up  with  his  war-club  when  his 
brother  had  ceased  speaking,  jumped  up,  "Yes,"  said 
he,  "/will  go,  and  this  will  be  the  way  I  will  treat  those 
we  are  going  to  fight;"  and  he  struck  the  post  in 
the  centre  of  the  lodge,  and  gave  a  yell.  The  others 
spoke  to  him,  saying,  "Slow,  slow,  Mudjikewis,  when 
you  are  in  other  people's  lodges."  So  he  sat  down. 
Then,  in  turn,  they  took  the  drum,  and  sang  their  songs, 
and  closed  with  a  feast.  The  youngest  told  them  not 
to  whisper  their  intention  even  to  their  wives,  but  secretly 
to  prepare  for  their  journey.  They  all  promised  obedi- 
ence, and  Mudjikewis  was  the  first  to  say  so. 

The  time  for  their  departure  drew  near.  Word  was 
given  to  assemble  on  a  certain  night,  when  they  would 
depart  immediately.  Mudjikewis  was  loud  in  his  de- 
mands for  his  moccasins.  Several  times  his  wife  asked 
him  the  reason.  "Besides,"  said  she,  "  you  have  a  good 
pair  on."  "Quick,  quick,"  he  said,  "since  you  must 
know,  we  are  going  on  a  war  excursion.  So  be  quick." 
He  thus  revealed  the  secret.  That  night  they  met  and 
started.  The  snow  was  on  the  ground,  and  they  travelled 
all  night,  lest  others  should  follow  them.  When  it  was 
daylight,  the  leader  took  snow  and  made  a  ball  of  it ; 
then  tossing  it  into  the  air,  he  said,  "It  was  in  this  way 
I  saw  snow  fall  in  my  dream,  so  that  I  could  not  be 
13 


1" 


i 


f 
t 


U 


146 


MISHEMOKWA;   OR, 


tracked."  And  he  told  them  to  keep  close  to  each  other 
for  fear  of  losing  themselves,  as  the  snow  began  to  fall 
in  very  large  flakes.  Near  as  they  walked,  it  was  with 
difficulty  they  could  see  each  other.  The  snow  continued 
falling  all  that  day  and  the  following  night.  So  it  was 
impossible  to  track  them. 

They  had  now  walked  for  several  days,  and  Mudjike- 
wis  was  always  in  the  rear.  One  day,  running  suddenly 
forward,  he  gave  the  Saw-saw-quan*  and  struck  a  tree 
with  his  war-club,  which  broke  into  pieces  as  if  struck 
with  lightning.  "Brothers,"  said  he,  "this  will  be  the 
way  I  will  serve  those  whom  we  are  going  to  fight." 
The  leader  answered,  "Slow,  slow,  Mudjikewis.  The 
one  I  lead  you  to  is  not  to  be  thought  of  so  lightly." 
Again  he  fell  back  and  thought  to  himself,  "What, 
what:  Who  can  this  be  he  is  leading  us  to  ?"  He  felt 
fearful,  and  was  silent.  Day  after  day  they  travelled 
on,  till  they  came  to  an  extensive  plain,  on  the  borders 
of  which  human  bones  were  bleaching  in  the  sun.  The 
leader  spoke.  "  They  are  the  bones  of  those  who  have 
gone  before  us.  None  has  ever  yet  returned  to  tell 
the  sad  tale  of  their  fate."  Again  Mudjikewis  became 
restless,  and,  running  forward,  gave  the  accustomed 
yell.  Advancing  to  a  large  rock  which  stood  above 
the  ground,  he  struck  it,  and  it  fell  to  pieces.  "See, 
brothers,"  said  he,  "  thus  will  I  treat  those  whom  we 
are  going  to  fight."  "Still,  still,"  once  more  said  the 
leader;  "he  to  whom  I  am  leading  you  is  not  to  be 
compared  to  that  rock." 

Mudjikewis  fell  back  quite  thoughtful,  saying  to 
himself,  "  I  wonder  who  this  can  be  that  he  is  going  to 
attack."    And  he  was  afraid.     Still  they  continued  to 


*  War-cry. 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR,  ETC.         14t 


•*^^ 


e 


0 

to 
to 


see  the  remains  of  former  warriors,  who  had  been  to 
the  place  where  they  were  now  going,  some  of  whom 
had  retreated  as  far  back  as  the  place  where  thoy  first 
saw  the  bones,  beyond  which  no  one  had  ever  escaped. 
At  last  they  came  to  a  piece  of  rising  ground,  from 
which  they  plainly  distinguished,  sleeping  on  a  distant 
mountain,  a  mammoth  bear. 

The  distance  between  them  was  great,  but  the  size 
of  the  animal  caused  him  plainly  to  be  seen.  "There," 
said  the  leader,  "  it  is  he  to  whom  I  am  h  ading  you ; 
here  our  troubles  only  will  commence,  for  he  is  a 
MisiiEMOKWA*  and  a  Manito.  It  is  he  who  has  that 
we  prize  so  dearly  (i.  e.,  wampum),  to  obtain  wlhch, 
the  warriors  whose  bones  we  saw  sacrificed  their  lives. 
You  must  not  be  fearful.  Be  manly.  We  shall  f*'nd 
him  asleep."  They  advanced  boldly  till  they  <amo 
near,  when  they  stopped  to  view  him  more  closely. 
He  was  asleep.  Then  the  leader  went  forward  and 
touched  the  belt  around  the  animal's  neck.  "  This," 
he  said,  "is  what  we  must  get.  It  contains  the  wam- 
pum." They  then  requested  the  eldest  to  try  and  slip 
the  belt  over  the  bear's  head,  who  appeared  to  be 
fast  asleep,  as  he  was  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by 
the  attempt  to  obtain  it.  All  their  efforts  were  in 
vain,  till  it  came  to  the  one  next  the  y  'i^igest.  He 
tried,  and  the  belt  moved  nearly  over  the  monster's 
head,  but  he  could  get  it  no  further.  Then  the  youngest 
one  and  leader  made  his  attempt,  and  succeeded.  Plac- 
ing it  on  the  back  of  the  oldest,  he  said,  "  Now  we 
must  run,"  and  off  they  started.  When  one  became 
fatigued  with  its  weight,  another  would  relieve  him. 
Thus  they  ran  till  they  had  passed  the  bones  of  all 

*  A  gigantic  she  bear  wearing  the  sacred  necklace  of  wam- 
pum. 


r 


148 


MISHEMOKWA;   OR, 


former  warriors,  and  were  some  distance  beyond,  when, 
looking  back,  they  saw  the  monster  slowly  rising.  He 
stood  some  time  before  he  missed  his  wampum.  Soon 
they  heard  his  tremendous  howl,  like  distant  thunder, 
slowly  filling  a.11  the  sky ;  and  then  they  heard  him 
speak  and  say,  "  Who  can  it  be  that  has  dared  to  steal 
my  wampum  ?  Earth  is  not  so  large  but  that  I  can 
find  them."  And  he  descended  from  the  hill  in  pur- 
suit. As  if  convulsed,  the  earth  shook  with  every  jump 
he  made.  Very  soon  he  approached  the  party.  They 
however  kept  the  belt,  exchanging  it  from  one  to 
another,  and  encouraging  each  other.  But  he  gained 
on  them  fast.  "  Brothers,"  said  the  leader,  "  has  never 
any  one  of  you,  when  fasting,  dreamed  of  some  friendly 
spirit  who  would  aid  you  as  a  guardian  ?"  A  dead 
silence  followed.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  fasting,  I  dreamed 
of  being  in  danger  of  instant  death,  when  I  saw  a  small 
lodge,  with  smoke  curling  from  its  top.  An  old  man 
lived  in  it,  and  I  dreamed  he  helped  me.  And  may  it 
be  verified  soon,"  he  said,  running  forward  and  giving 
the  peculiar  yell,  and  a  howl  as  if  the  sounds  came  from 
the  depths  of  his  stomach,  and  which  is  called  Checau- 
dum.  Getting  upon  a  piece  of  rising  ground,  behold  1 
a  lodge,  with  smoke  curling  from  its  top,  appeared. 
This  gave  them  all  new  strength,  and  they  ran  forward 
and  entered  it.  The  leader  spoke  to  the  old  man  who 
sat  in  the  lodge  saying,  "  Nemesho*  help  us.  We 
claim  your  protection,  for  the  great  bear  will  kill  us." 
"  Sit  down  and  eat,  my  grandchildren,"  said  the  old 
man.  "  Who  is  a  great  Manito  ?"  said  he,  ''there  is 
none  but  me  ;  but  let  me  look,"  and  ho  opened  the 
door  of  the  lodge,  when  lo  !  at  a  Kttle  distance  he  saw 

*  i\Iy  graiulfathor. 


u  I 


> 


ll! 


TOE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR,  ETC.         149 

the  enraged  animal  coming  on,  with  slow  but  powerful 
leaps.  He  closed  the  door.  "Yes,"  said  he,  ''he  is 
indeed  a  great  Manito.  My  grandchildren,  you  will  bo 
the  cause  of  my  losing  my  life.  You  asked  my  pro- 
tection, and  I  granted  it ;  so  now  come  what  may,  I 
will  protect  you.  When  the  bear  arrives  at  the  door, 
you  must  run  out  of  the  other  end  of  the  lodge."  Then 
putting  his  hand  to  the  side  of  the  lodge  where  he  sat, 
he  brought  out  a  bag,  which  he  opened.  Taking  out 
two  small  black  dogs,  he  placed  them  before  him. 
'*  These  are  the  ones  I  use  when  I  fight,"  said  he ;  and 
he  commenced  patting,  with  both  hands,  the  sides  of 
one  of  them,  and  they  began  to  swell  out,  so  that  he  soon 
filled  the  lodge  by  his  bulk.  And  he  had  great  strong 
teeth.  When  he  attained  his  full  size  he  growled,  and 
from  that  moment,  as  from  instinct,  he  jumped  out  at 
the  door  and  met  the  bear,  who  in  another  leap  would 
have  reached  the  lodge.  A  terrible  combat  ensiisid. 
The  skies  rang  with  the  howls  of  the  fierce  monsters. 
The  remaining  dog  soon  took  the  field.  The  brothers, 
at  the  onset,  took  the  advice  of  the  old  man,  and  es- 
caped through  the  opposite  side  of  the  lodge.  They 
had  not  proceeded  far  before  they  heard  the  dying  cry 
of  one  of  the  dogs,  and  soon  after  of  the  other.  "Well," 
said  the  leader,  "  the  old  man  will  share  their  fate ;  so 
run,  run,  he  will  soon  be  after  us."  They  started  with 
fresh  vigor,  for  they  had  received  food  from  the  old 
man ;  but  very  soon  the  bear  came  in  sight,  and  again 
was  fast  gaining  upon  them.  Again  the  leader  asked 
the  brothers  if  they  could  do  nothing  for  their  safety. 
All  were  silent.  The  leadci",  running  forward,  did  a3 
before.  "  I  dreamed,"  he  cried,  •'  that,  being  in  great 
trouble,  an  old  man  hel[)ed  me  who  was  a  Manito. 
We  shall  soon  see  his  lodge."    Taking  courage,  they 

13* 


I 


150 


mishemokwa;  or, 


i! 


still  went  on.  After  p;oinjT^  a  short  distance  tliey  saw 
the  lodge  of  the  old  Manito.  They  entered  immedi- 
ately and  claimed  his  protection,  telling  him  a  Manito 
was  after  them.  The  old  man,  setting  meat  before 
them,  said,  "Eat.  Who  is  a  Manito?  there  is  no 
Manito  but  me.  There  is  none  whom  I  fear."  And 
the  earth  trembled  as  the  monster  advanced.  The  old 
man  opened  the  door  and  saw  him  coming.  He  shut 
it  slowly,  and  said,  "  Yes,  my  grandchildren,  you  have 
brought  trouble  upon  me."  Procuring  his  medicine 
sack,  he  took  out  his  small  war-clubs  of  black  stone,  and 
told  the  young  men  to  run  through  the  other  side  of 
tha  lodge.  As  he  handled  the  clubs  they  became  very 
large,  and  the  old  man  stepped  out  just  as  the  bear 
reached  the  door.  Then  striking  him  with  one  of  the 
clubs,  it  broke  in  pieces.  The  bear  stumbled.  Re- 
newing the  attempt  with  the  other  war-club,  that  also 
was  broken,  but  the  bear  fell  senseless.  Each  blow 
the  old  man  gave  him  sounded  like  a  clap  of  thunder, 
and  the  howls  of  the  bear  ran  along  till  they  filled  the 
heavens. 

The  young  men  had  now  ran  some  distance,  when 
they  looked  back.  They  could  see  that  the  bear  was 
recovering  from  the  blows.  First  he  moved  his  paws, 
and  soon  they  saw  him  rise  on  his  feet.  The  old  man 
shared  the  fate  of  the  first,  for  they  now  heard  his  cries 
as  he  was  torn  in  pieces.  Again  the  monster  was  in 
pursuit,  and  fast  overtaking  them.  Not  yet  discou- 
raged, the  young  men  kept  on  their  way ;  but  the  bear 
was  now  so  close,  that  the  leader  once  more  applied 
to  his  brothers,  but  they  could  do  nothing.  "Well," 
said  he,  "my  dreams  will  soon  be  exhausted.  After 
this  I  have  but  one  more."  He  advanced,  invoking 
his  guardian  spirit  to  aid  him.     "Once,"  said  he,  "I 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR,  ETC.         151 


■1^ 


e 


dreamed  that,  being  sorely  pressed,  I  came  to  a  large 
lake,  on  the  shore  of  which  was  a  canoe,  partly  out  of 
water,  having  ten  paddles  all  in  readiness.  Do  not 
fear,"  he  cried,  "  we  shall  soon  get  to  it. "  And  so  it  was, 
even  as  he  had  said.  Coming  to  the  lake,  they  saw 
the  canoe  with  ten  paddles,  and  immediately  they  em- 
barked. Scarcely  had  they  reached  the  centre  of  the 
lake,  when  they  saw  the  bear  arrive  at  its  borders. 
Lifting  himself  on  his  hind  legs,  he  looked  all  around. 
Then  he  vvaded  into  the  water ;  then  losing  his  footing, 
he  turned  back,  and  commenced  making  the  circuit  of 
the  lake.  Meanwhile,  the  party  remained  stationary  in 
the  centre  to  watch  his  movements.  He  travelled 
around,  till  at  last  he  came  to  the  place  from  whence 
he  started.  Then  he  commenced  drinking  up  the  water, 
and  they  saw  the  current  fast  setting  in  towards  his 
open  mouth.  The  leader  encouraged  them  to  paddle 
hard  for  the  opposite  shore.  When  only  a  short  dis- 
tance from  land,  the  current  had  increased  so  much, 
that  they  were  drawn  back  by  it,  and  all  their  efforts 
to  reach  it  were  vain. 

Then  the  leader  again  spoke,  telling  them  to  meet 
their  fates  manfully.  "Now  is  the  time,  Mudjikewis," 
said  he,  "to  show  your  prowess.  Take  courage,  and 
sit  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe ;  and  when  it  approaches 
his  mouth,  try  what  effect  your  club  will  have  on  his 
head."  He  obeyed,  and  stood  ready  to  give  the  blow; 
while  the  leader,  who  steered,  directed  the  canoe  for 
the  open  mouth  of  the  monster. 

Rapidly  advancing,  they  were  just  about  to  enter  his 
mouth,  when  Mudjikewis  struck  him  a  tremendous  blow 
on  the  head,  and  gave  the  saw-saw-quan.  The  bear's 
limbs  doubled  under  him,  and  he  fell  stunned  by  the 
blow.     But  before  Mudjikewis  could  renew  it  the  mou- 


I 


i 


152 


MISIIEMOKWA;   OR, 


> 


ster  disgorged  all  the  water  he  had  drank,  with  a  force 
which  sent  the  canoe  with  great  velocity  to  the  opposite 
shore.  Instantly  leaving  the  canoe,  again  they  fled, 
and  on  they  went  till  they  were  completely  exhausted. 
The  earth  again  shook,  and  soon  they  saw  the  monster 
hard  after  them.  Their  spirits  drooped,  and  they  felt 
discouraged.  The  leader  exerted  himself,  by  actions 
and  words,  to  cheer  them  up ;  and  once  more  he  asked 
them  if  they  thought  of  nothing,  or  could  do  nothing  for 
their  rescue;  and,  as  before,  all  were  silent.  "Then,"  he 
said,  "this  is  the  last  time  I  can  apply  to  my  guardian 
spirit.  Now  if  we  do  not  succeed,  our  fates  are  de- 
cided." He  ran  forward,  invoking  his  spirit  with  great 
earnestness,  and  gave  the  yell.  "We  shall  soon  arrive," 
said  he  to  his  brothers,  "to  the  place  where  my  last 
guardian  spirit  dwells.  In  him  I  place  great  confi- 
dence. Do  not,  uo  not  be  afraid,  or  your  limbs  will 
be  fear-bound.  We  shall  soon  reach  his  lodge.  Hun, 
run,"  he  cried. 

They  were  now  in  sight  of  the  lodge  of  lamo,  the 
magician  of  the  undying  head — of  that  great  magician 
whose  life  had  been  the  forfeit  of  the  kind  of  necro- 
mantic leprosy  caused  by  the  careless  steps  of  the  fatal 
curse  of  uncleanliness  in  hif;  sister.  This  lodge  was 
the  sacred  spot  of  expected  relief  to  which  they  had 
been  fleeing,  from  the  furious  rage  of  the  giant  Bear, 
who  had  been  robbed  of  her  precious  boon,  the  magis' 
saimiqiia.  For  it  had  been  the  design  of  many  pre- 
vious war  parties  to  obtain  this  boon. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  undying  head  of  Tamo  had  re- 
mained in  the  medicine  sack,  suspended  on  the  sides  of 
his  wigwam,  where  his  sister  had  placed  it,  with  its 
mystic  charms,  and  feathers,  and  arrows.  This  head 
retained  all  life  and  vitality,  keeping  its  eyes  open,  anil 


THE  WAR  ^VITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR,  ETC.         153 


directing  its  sister,  in  order  to  procure  food,  where  to 
place  the  magic  arrows,  and  speaking  at  long  intervals. 
One  day  the  sister  saw  the  eyes  of  the  head  brighten, 
as  if  through  pleasure.  At  last  it  spoke.  "  Oh  I  sis- 
ter," it  said,  "  in  what  a  pitiful  situation  you  have  been 
the  cause  of  placing  me.  Soon,  very  soon,  a  party 
of  young  men  will  arrive  and  apply  to  me  for  aid;  but, 
alas  1  how  can  I  give  what  I  would  have  done  with  so 
much  pleasure.  Nevertheless,  take  two  arrows,  and 
place  them  where  you  have  been  in  the  habit  of  placing 
the  others,  and  have  meat  prepared  and  cooked  before- 
they  arrive.  When  you  hear  them  coming  and  calling 
on  my  name,  go  out  and  say, '  Alas  1  it  is  long  ago  that 
an  accident  befell  him  ;  I  was  the  cause  of  it.'  If  they 
still  come  near,  ask  them  in  and  set  meat  before  them. 
And  now  you  must  follow  my  directions  strictly.  When 
the  bear  is  near,  go  out  and  meet  him.  You  will  take 
my  medicine  sack,  bows  and  arrows,  and  my  head.  You 
must  then  untie  the  sack,  and  spread  out  before  you 
my  paints  of  all  colors,  my  war  eagle  feathers,  my  tufts 
of  dried  hair,  and  whatever  else  it  contains.  As  the 
bear  approaches,  you  will  take  all  these  articles,  one  by 
one,  and  say  to  him,  'This  is  my  deceased  brother's 
paint,'  and  so  on  with  all  the  other  articles,  throwing 
each  of  them  as  far  from  you  as  you  can.  The  virtues 
contained  in  them  will  cause  him  to  totter;  and,  to 
complete  his  destruction,  you  will  take  my  head,  and 
that  too  you  will  cast  as  far  off  as  you  can,  crying  aloud, 
*  See,  this  is  my  deceased  brother's  head.'  lie  will 
then  fall  senseless.  By  this  time  the  young  men  will 
have  eaten,  and  you  will  cull  them  to  your  assistance. 
You  must  then  cut  the  carcass  into  pieces,  yes,  into 
small  pieces,  and  scatter  them  to  the  four  winds ;  for, 
unless  you  do  this,  he  will  again  revive."    She  pro- 


i 


154 


mishemokwa;  or, 


mised  that  all  shooM  be  done  as  he  said.  She  had 
only  time  to  prepare  the  meat,  when  the  voice  of  the 
leader  was  heard  calling  upon  lamo  for  aid.  The 
woman  went  out  and  invited  them  in  as  her  brother  had 
directed.  But  the  war  party,  being  closely  pursued, 
came  promptly  up  to  the  lodge.  She  invited  them  in, 
and  placed  the  meat  before  them.  While  they  were 
eating  they  heard  the  bear  approaching.  Untying  the 
medicine  sack  and  taking  the  head,  she  had  all  in  readi- 
ness for  his  approach.  When  he  came  up,  she  did  as 
she  had  been  told.  "Behold,  Mishemokwa,"  she  cried, 
"  this  is  the  meda  sack  of  lamo.  These  are  war 
eagle's  feathers  of  lamo  (casting  them  aside).  These 
are  magic  arrows  of  lamo  (casting  them  down).  These 
are  the  sacred  paints  and  magic  charms  of  lamo. 
These  are  dried  tufts  of  the  hair  of  furious  beasts.  And 
this  (swinging  it  with  all  her  might)  is  his  undying 
head."  The  monster  began  to  totter,  as  she  cast  one 
thing  after  the  other  on  the  ground,  but  still  recovering 
strength,  came  close  up  to  the  woman  till  she  flung  the 
head.  As  it  rolled  along  the  ground,  the  blood,  excited 
by  the  feelings  of  the  head  in  this  terrible  scene,  gushed 
from  the  nose  and  mouth.  The  bear,  tottering,  soon 
fell  with  a  tremendous  noise.  Then  she  cried  for  help, 
and  the  young  men  came  rushing  out,  haying  partially 
regained  their  strength  and  spirits. 

Mudjikewis,  stepping  up,  gave  a  yell,  and  struck  the 
monster  a  blow  upon  the  head.  This  he  repeated  till 
it  seemed  like  a  mass  of  brains ;  while  the  others,  as 
quick  as  possible,  cut  him  into  very  small  pieces,  which 
they  then  scattered  in  every  direction.  While  thus 
employed,  happening  to  look  around  where  they  had 
thrown  the  meat,  wonderful  to  behold  1  they  saw,  start- 
ing up  and  running  off  in  every  direction,  small  black 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIQANTTC  BEAR,  ETC. 


155 


)n 


h 


ho 
111 


jh 


bears,  such  as  are  seen  at  the  present  clay.  Tlie  conn- 
try  was  soon  overspread  with  these  black  animals.  And 
it  was  from  this  monster  that  the  present  race  of  bears, 
the  mukwahs,  derived  their  origin. 

Having  thus  overcome  their  pursuer,  they  returned 
to  the  lodge.  In  the  mean  time,  the  woman,  gathering 
the  implements  she  had  scattered,  and  the  head,  placed 
them  again  in  the  sack.  But  the  head  did  not  speak 
again. 

The  war  party  were  now  triumphant,  but  they  did 
not  know  what  use  to  make  of  their  triumph.     Having 
spent  so  much  time,  and  traversed  so  vast  a  country  in 
their  flight,  the  young  men  gave  up  the  idea  of  ever 
returning  to  their  own  country,  and  game  being  plenty, 
they  determined  to  remain  where  they  now  were,  and 
make  this  their  home.     One  day  they  moved  off  some 
distance  from  the  lodge  for  the  purpose  of  hunting, 
having  left  the  wampum  captured  with  the  woman.   They 
were  very  successful,  and   amused   themselves,  as   all 
young  men  do  when  alone,  by  talking  and  jesting  with 
each  other.     One  of  them  spoke  and  said,  "We  have 
all  this  sport  to  ourselves ;  let  us  go  and  ask  our  sister 
if  she  will  not  let  us  bring  the  head  to  this  place,  as  it 
is  still  alive.     It  may  be  pleased  to  hear  us  talk  and  be 
in  our  company.     In  the  mean  lime,  we  will  take  food 
to  our  sister."    They  went,  and  requested  the  head. 
She  told  them  to  take  it,  and  they  took  it  to   their 
hunting-grounds,  and  tried  to  amuse   it,  but  only  at 
times  did  they  see  its  eyes  beam  with  pleasure.     One 
day,  while  busy  in  their  encampment,  they  were  unex- 
pectedly attacked  by  unknown  Indians.     The  skirmish 
was  long  contested  and  bloody.     Many  of  their  foes 
were  slain,  but  still  they  were  thirty  to  one.    The  young 
men  fought  desperately  till  they  were  all  killed.     The 


1 1 


U 


156 


MISUEMOKWA;   OR, 


attacking  party  then  retreated  to  a  height  of  ground,  to 
muster  their  men,  and  to  count  the  number  of  missing 
and  slain.  One  of  their  young  men  had  strayed  away, 
and,  in  endeavoring  to  overtake  them,  came  to  the  place 
where  the  undying  head  was  hung  up.  Seeing  that 
alone  retain  animation,  he  eyed  it  for  some  time  with 
fear  and  surprise.  However,  he  took  it  down  and 
opened  the  sack,  and  was  much  pleased  to  see  the  beau- 
tiful feathers,  one  of  which  he  placed  on  his  head. 

Starting  ofiF,  it  waved  gracefully  over  him  till  he 
reached  his  party,  when  he  threw  down  the  head  and 
sack,  and  told  them  how  he  had  found  it,  and  that  the 
sack  was  full  of  paints  and  feathers.  They  all  looked 
at  the  head  and  made  sport  of  it.  Numbers  of  the 
young  men  took  up  the  paint  and  painted  themselves, 
and  one  of  the  party  took  the  head  by  the  hair  and 
said,  "Look,  you  ugly  thing,  and  see  your  paints  on 
the  faces  of  warriors."  But  the  feathers  were  so  beau- 
tiful, that  numbers  of  them  also  placed  them  on  their 
heads.  Then  again  they  used  all  kinds  of  indignity  to 
the  head,  for  which  they  were  in  turn  repaid  by  the 
death  of  those  who  had  used  the  feathers.  Then  the 
chief  commanded  them  to  throw  all  away  except  the 
head.  "We  will  see,"  said  he,  "when  we  get  home, 
what  we  can  do  to  it.  "We  will  try  to  make  it  shut  its 
eyes." 

When  they  reached  their  homes  they  took  it  to  the 
council  lodge,  and  hung  it  up  before  the  fire,  fastening 
it  with  raw  hide  soaked,  which  would  shrink  and  be- 
come tightened  by  the  action  of  the  fire.  "We  will 
then  see,"  they  said,  "if  we  cannot  make  it  shut  its 
eyes." 

Meanwhile,  for  several  days,  the  sister  of  lamo  had 
been  waiting  for  the  young  men  to  bring  back  the  head ; 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR,  ETC.  157 


ts 

|g 
[ll 

Its 


till  at  last,  getting  impatient,  she  went  in  search  of  it. 
The  young  men  she  found  lying  within  short  distances 
of  each  other,  dead,  and  covered  with  wounds.  Various 
other  bodies  lay  scattered  in  different  directions  around 
them.  She  searched  for  the  head  and  sack,  but  they 
were  nowhere  to  be  found.  She  raised  her  voice  and 
wept,  and  blackened  her  face.  Then  she  walked  in 
different  directions,  till  she  came  to  the  place  from 
whence  the  head  had  been  taken.  There  she  found  the 
magic  bow  and  arrows,  where  the  young  men,  ignorant 
of  their  qualities,  had  left  them.  She  thought  to  herself 
that  she  would  find  her  brother's  head,  and  came  to  a 
piece  of  rising  ground,  and  there  saw  son  13  of  his  paints 
and  feathers.  These  she  carefully  put  up,  and  hung 
upon  the  branch  of  a  tree  till  her  return. 

At  dusk  she  arrived  at  the  first  lodge  of  the  enemy, 
in  a  very  extensive  village.  Here  she  used  a  charm, 
common  among  Indians  when  they  wish  to  meet  with 
a  kind  reception.  On  applying  to  the  old  man  and 
woman  of  the  lodge,  she  was  kindly  received.  She 
made  known  her  errand.  The  old  man  promised  to 
aid  her,  and  told  her  that  the  head  was  hung  up  before 
the  council  fire,  and  that  the  chiefs  of  the  village,  with 
their  young  men,  kept  watch  over  it  continually.  The 
former  are  considered  as  Manitoes.  She  said  she  only 
wished  to  see  it,  and  would  be  satisfied  if  she  could  only 
get  to  the  door  of  the  lodge.  She  knew  she  had  not 
suflBcient  power  to  take  it  by  force.  "  Come  with  me," 
said  the  Indian,  "  I  will  take  you  there."  They  went, 
and  they  took  their  seats  near  the  door.  The  council 
lodge  was  filled  with  warriors,  amusing  themselves  with 
games,  and  constantly  keeping  up  a  fire  to  smoke  the 
head,  as  they  said,  to  make  dry  meat.  They  saw  the 
eyes  move,  and  not  knowing  what  to  uiake  of  it,  one 
14 


158 


mishemokwa;  or, 


spoke  and  said,  "Hal  ha  I  it  is  beginning  to  feel  the 
effects  of  the  smoke."  The  sister  looked  up  from  the 
door,  and  as  her  eyes  met  tliose  of  her  brother,  tears 
rolled  down  the  cheeks  of  the  undying  head.  "  Well," 
said  the  chief,  "  I  thought  we  would  make  you  do 
something  at  last.  Look  1  look  at  it-^shedding  tears," 
said  he  to  those  around  him  ;  and  they  all  laughed  and 
passed  their  jokes  upon  it.  The  chief,  looking  around 
and  observing  the  woman,  after  some  time  said  to  the 
old  man  who  came  with  her,  "  Who  have  you  got 
there  ?  I  have  never  seen  that  woman  before  in  our 
vilUige."  "Yes,"  replied  the  man,  "you  have  seen 
her ;  she  is  a  relation  of  mine,  and  seldom  goes  out. 
She  stays  in  my  lodge,  and  asked  me  to  allow  her  to 
come  with  me  to  this  place."  In  the  centre  of  the 
lodge  sat  one  of  those  vain  young  men  who  are  always 
forward,  and  fond  of  boasting  and  displaying  them- 
selves before  others.  "Why,"  said  he,  "  I  have  seen 
her  often,  and  it  is  to  his  lodge  I  go  almost  every  night 
to  court  her."  All  the  others  laughed  and  continued 
their  games.  The  young  man  did  not  know  he  was 
telling  a  lie  to  the  woman's  advantage,  who  by  that 
means  escaped  scrutiny. 

She  returned  to  the  old  man's  lodge,  and  immedi- 
ately set  out  for  her  own  country.  Comingto  the  spot 
where  ihe  bodies  of  her  adopted  brothers  lay,  she 
placed  them  together,  their  feet  toward  the  east.  Then 
taking  an  axe  which  she  had,  she  cast  it  up  into  the 
air,  crying  out,  "  Brothers,  get  up  from  under  it,  or  it 
will  fall  on  you."  This  she  repeated  three  times,  and 
the  third  time  the  brothers  all  arose  and  stood  on  their 
feet. 

M  idjikewis  commenced  rubbing  his  eyes  and  stretch- 
ing himself.     "Why,"  said  he,  "I  have  overslept  my- 


1 


THE  WAR  WITH  THE  GIGANTIC  BEAR,  ETC.         159 


1 


self."  "No,  indeed,"  said  one  of  the  others,  "do  you 
not  know  we  were  all  killed,  and  that  is  our  sister  who 
has  brought  us  to  life  ?"  The  young  men  took  the 
bodies  of  their  enemies  and  burned  them.  Soon  after, 
the  woman  went  to  procure  wives  for  them,  in  a  distant 
country,  they  knew  not  where  ;  but  she  returned  with 
ten  young  females,  which  she  gave  to  the  young  men, 
beginning  with  the  eldest.  Mudjike  is  stepped  to  and 
fro,  uneasy  lest  he  should  not  get  the  one  he  liked.  But 
he  was  not  disappointed,  for  she  fell  to  his  lot.  And 
they  were  well  matched,  for  she  was  afemale'magician. 
They  then  all  moved  into  a  very  large  lodge,  and  their 
sister  lamoqua  told  them  that  the  women  must  now  take 
turns  in  going  to  her  brother's  head  every  night,  trying 
to  untie  it.  They  all  said  they  would  do  so  with  plea- 
sure. The  eldest  made  the  first  attempt,  and  with  a 
rushing  noise  she  fled  through  the  air. 

Towards  daylight  she  returned.  She  had  been  un- 
successful, as  she  succeeded  in  untying  only  one  of  the 
knots.  All  took  their  turns  regularly,  and  each  one 
succeeded  in  untying  only  one  knot  each  time.  But 
when  the  youngest  went,  she  commenced  the  work  as 
soon  as  she  reached  the  lodge ;  although  it  had  always 
been  occupied,  still  the  Indians  never  could  see  any 
one,  for  they  all  possessed  invisibility.  For  ten  nights 
now,  the  smoke  had  not  ascended,  but  filled  the  lodge 
and  drove  them  out.  This  last  night  they  were  all 
driven  out,  and  the  young  woman  carried  off  the  head. 

The  young  people  and  the  sister  heard  the  young 
woman  coming  high  through  the  air,  and  they  heard 
her  saying,  "  Prepare  the  body  of  our  brother."  And  as 
soon  as  they  heard  it,  they  went  to  a  small  lodge  where 
the  black  body  of  lamo  lay.  His  sister  coniinenced 
cutting  the  neck  part,  from  which  the  head  had  been 


I 


160   MI8HEM0KWA;   OR,  THE  WAR  WITH  THE  BEAR,  ET^ 

severed.  She  cut  so  deep  as  to  cause  it  to  bleed  ;  and 
the  others  who  were  present,  by  rubbing  the  body  and 
applying  medicines,  expelled  the  blackness.  In  the 
mean  time,  the  one  who  brought  it,  by  cutting  the  neck 
of  the  head,  caused  that  also  to  bleed. 

As  soon  as  she  arrived,  they  placed  that  close  to  the 
body,  and  by  the  aid  of  medicines  and  various  other 
means,  succeeded  in  restoring  lamo  to  all  his  former 
beauty  and  manliness.  All  rejoiced  in  the  happy  ter- 
mination of  their  troubles,  and  they  had  spent  some 
time  joyfully  together,  when  lamo  said,  "Now  I  will 
divide  the  wampum  ;"  and  getting  the  belt  which  con- 
tained it,  he  commenced  with  the  eldest,  giving  it  in 
equal  proportions.  But  the  youngest  got  the  most 
splendid  and  beautiful,  as  the  bottom  of  the  belt  held 
the  richest  and  rarest. 

They  were  told  that,  since  they  had  all  once  died, 
and  were  restored  to  life,  they  were  no  longer  mortals, 
but  spirits,  and  they  were  assigned  different  stations  in 
the  invisible  world.  Only  Mudjikewis's  place  was,  how- 
ever, named.  lie  was  to  direct  the  west  icind,  hence 
generally  called  Kabeyun,  the  father  of  Manabozho, 
there  to  remain  forever.  They  were  commanded,  as 
they  had  it  in  their  power,  to  do  good  to  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  earth;  and  forgetting  their  sufferings  in 
procuring  the  wampum,  to  give  all  things  with  a  liberal 
hand.  And  they  were  also  commanded  that  it  should 
also  be  held  by  them  sacred;  those  grains  or  shells  of 
the  pale  hue  to  be  emblematic  of  peace,  while  those  of 
the  darker  hue  would  lead  to  evil  and  to  war. 

The  spirits,  then,  amid  songs  and  shouts,  took  their 
flight  to  their  respective  abodes  on  hii_':h  ;  while  lamo, 
with  his  sister  lamoqua,  descended  into  the  depths 
below. 


I 


£'. 


rri 


;  and 
y  and 
n  the 
;  neck 

to  the 
other 
former 
py  ter- 
b  some 
r  I  will 
ih  con- 
g  it  in 
e  most 
jlt  held 

ce  died, 
nortals, 
ttions  in 
as,  how- 
rf,  hence 
labozho, 
ided,  as 
inhabit- 
srings  in 
a  liberal 
t  should 
shells  of 
those  of 

3ok  their 
lie  lamo, 
le  depths 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


Three  brothers  were  left  destitute,  by  the  death  of 
their  parents,  at  an  early  age.  The  eldest  was  not  yet 
able  to  provide  fully  for  their  support,  but  did  all  he 
could  in  hunting,  and  with  his  aid,  and  the  stock  of 
provisions  left  by  their  father,  they  were  preserved  and 
kept  alive,  rather,  it  seems,  by  miraculous  interposition, 
than  the  adequacy  of  their  own  exertions.  For  the 
father  had  been  a  hermit,*  having  removed  far  away 
from  the  body  of  the  tribe,  so  that  when  he  and  his 
wife  died  they  left  their  children  without  neighbors  and 
friends,  and  the  lads  had  no  idea  that  there  was  a  hu- 
man being  near  them.  They  did  not  even  know  who 
their  parents  had  been,  for  the  eldest  was  too  young, 
at  the  time  of  their  death,  to  remember  it.  Forlorn  as 
they  were,  they  did  not,  however,  give  up  to  despond- 
ency, but  made  use  of  every  exertion  they  could,  and 
in  process  of  time,  learned  the  art  of  hunting  and  kill- 
ing animals.  The  eldest  soon  became  an  expert  hunter, 
and  was  very  successful  in  procuring  food.  He  was 
noted  for  his  skill  in  killing  buffalo,  elk,  and  moose, 
and  he  instructed  his  brothers  in  the  arts  of  the  forest 
as  soon  as  they  became  old  enough  to  follow  him. 
After  they  had  become  able  to  hunt  and  take  care  of 
themselves,  the  elder  proposed  to  leave  them,  and  go 

*  Pai-gwud-aw-diz-zid, 
14* 


162 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


in  search  of  habitations,  promising  to  return  as  soon  as 
he  could  procure  them  wives.  In  this  project  he  was 
overruled  by  his  brothers,  who  said  they  could  not  part 
with  him.  Maujeekewis,  the  second  eldest,  was  loud  in 
his  disapproval,  saying,  "  What  will  you  do  with  those 
you  propose  to  get — we  have  lived  so  long  without  them, 
and  we  can  still  do  without  them."  His  words  pre- 
vailed, and  the  three  brothers  continued  together  for  a 
time. 

One  day  they  agreed  to  kill  each,  a  male  of  those  kind 
of  animals  each  was  most  expert  in  hunting,  for  the 
purpose  of  making  quivers  from  their  skins.  They  did 
sc,  and  immediately  commenced  making  arrows  to  fill 
their  quiverS;  that  they  might  be  prepared  for  any  emer- 
gency. Soon  after,  they  hunted  on  a  wager,  to  see  who 
should  come  in  first  with  game,  and  prepare  it  so  as  to 
regale  the  others.  Tliey  were  to  shoot  no  other  ani- 
mal, but  such  as  each  was  in  the  habit  of  killing.  They 
set  out  dilferent  ways ;  Odjibwa,  the  youngest,  had  not 
gone  far  before  he  saw  a  bear,  an  animal  he  was  not  to 
kill,  by  the  agreement.  lie  followed  him  close,  and 
drove  an  arrow  through  him,  which  brought  him  to  the 
ground.  Although  contrary  to  the  bet,  he  immediately 
commenced  skinning  him,  when  suddenly  something  red 
tinged  all  the  air  around  him.  He  rubbed  his  eyes, 
thinking  he  was  perhaps  deceived,  but  without  effect, 
for  the  red  hue  continued.  At  length  he  heard  a  strange 
noise  at  a  distance.  It  first  appeared  like  a  human 
voice,  but  after  following  the  sound  for  some  distance, 
he  reached  the  shores  of  a  lake,  and  soon  saw  the  object 
he  V.  1  looking  for.  At  a  distance  out  in  the  lake,  sat 
a  most  beautiful  Rod  Swan,  whose  plumage  glittered  in 
the  sun,  a!id  who  would  now  and  then  make  the  same 
noise  he  had  henrd.     He  was  within  long  bow  shot, 


TUE  RiJD  SWAN. 


163 


and  pulling  the  arrow  from  the  bow-string  up  to  his  ear, 
took  deliberate  aim  and  shot.  The  arrow  took  no  effect ; 
and  he  shot  and  shot  again  till  his  quiver  was  empty. 
Still  the  swan  remained,  moving  around  and  around, 
stretching  its  long  neck  and  dipping  its  bill  into  the 
water,  as  if  heedless  of  the  arrows  shot  at  it.  Odjibwa 
ran  home,  and  got  all  his  own  and  his  brothers'  arrows, 
and  shot  them  all  away.  He  then  stood  and  gazed  at 
the  beautiful  bird.  While  standing,  he  remembered  his 
brothers'  saying  that  in  their  deceased  father's  medicine 
sack  were  three  magic  arrows.  Off  he  started,  his 
anxiety  to  kill  the  swan  overcoming  all  scruples.  At 
any  other  time,  he  would  have  deemed  it  sacrilege  to 
open  his  father's  medicine  sack,  but  now  he  hastily 
seized  the  three  arrows  and  ran  back,  leaving  the  other 
contents  of  the  sack  scattered  over  the  lodge.  The 
swon  was  still  there,  lie  shot  the  first  arrow  with 
great  precision,  and  came  very  near  to  it.  The  second 
came  still  closer  ;  as  he  took  the  last  arrcw,  he  felt  his 
arm  firmer,  and  drawing  it  up  with  vigor,  saw  it  pass 
through  the  neck  of  the  swan  a  little  above  the  breast. 
Still  it  did  not  prevent  the  bird  from  flying  off,  which  it 
did,  however^  at  first  slowly,  flapping  its  wings  and 
rising  gradually  into  the  air,  and  then  flying  off  toward 
the  sinking  of  the  sun.*  Odjibwa  was  disappointed;  he 
knew  that  his  brothers  would  be  displeased  with  him  ; 
he  rushed  into  the  water  and  rescued  the  two  magic 
arrows,  the  third  was  carried  off  by  the  swan ;  but  he 
thought  that  it  could  not  fly  very  far  with  it,  and  let  the 
consequences  be  what  they  might,  he  was  bent  on  fol- 
lowing it. 

Off  he  started  on  the  run ;  he  was  noted  for  speed, 


*  Puiigish-o-moo,  falling  or  niiiking  to  a  position  of  repose. 


164 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


for  he  would  shoot  an  arrow,  and  then  run  so  fast  that 
the  arrow  always  fell  behind  him.  I  can  run  fast,  he 
thought,  and  I  can  get  up  with  the  swan  some  time  or 
other.  He  thus  ran  over  hills  and  prf.iries,  toward  the 
west,  till  near  night,  and  was  only  going  to  take  one 
more  run,  and  then  seek  a  place  to  sleep  for  the  night, 
when  suddenly  he  heard  noises  at  a  distance,  which  he 
knew  were  from  people ;  for  some  were  cutting  trees, 
and  the  strokes  of  their  axes  echoed  through  the  woods. 
When  he  emerged  from  the  forest,  the  sun  was  just  fall- 
ing below  the  horizon,  and  he  felt  pleased  to  find  a  place 
to  sleep  in,  and  get  something  to  eat,  as  he  had  left 
home  without  a  mouthful.  All  these  circumstances  could 
not  damp  his  ardor  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  object, 
and  he  felt  that  if  he  only  persevered,  he  would  succeed. 
At  a  distance,  on  a  rising  piece  of  ground,  he  could  see 
an  extensive  town.  He  went  toward  it,  but  soon  heard 
the  watchman,  Mudjee-Kokokoiio,  who  was  placed  on 
some  height  to  overlook  the  place,  and  give  notice  of 
the  approach  of  friends  or  foes — crying  out,  "We  are 
visited ;"  and  a  loud  holla  indicated  that  they  all  heard 
it.  The  young  man  advanced,  and  was  pointed  by  the 
watchman  to  the  lodge  of  the  chief,  "It  is  there  you 
must  go  in,"  he  said,  and  left  him.  "  Come  in,  come 
in,"  said  the  chief,  "take  a  seat  there,"  pointing  to  the 
side  where  his  daughter  sat.  "It  is  there  you  must 
sit."  Soon  they  gave  him  something  to  eat,  and  very 
few  questions  were  asked  him,  being  a  stranger.  It 
was  only  when  he  spoke,  that  the  others  answered  him. 
"Daughter,"  said  the  chief,  after  dark,  "take  our  son- 
in-law's  moccasins,  and  see  if  they  be  torn  ;  if  so,  mend 
them  for  him,  and  bring  in  his  bundle."  The  young 
man  thought  it  strange  that  he  should  be  so  warmly 
received,  and  married  instantly,  without  bis  wishing  it, 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


165 


although  ih  young  girl  was  pretty.  It  was  soVne  time 
before  she  would  take  his  moccasins,  which  he  had  taken 
off.  It  displeased  him  to  see  her  so  reluctant  to  do  so, 
and  when  she  did  reach  them,  he  snatched  them  out  of 
her  hand  and  hung  them  up  himself.  He  laid  down  and 
thought  of  the  swan,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  be  off  by 
dawn.  He  awoke  early,  and  spoke  to  the  young  woman, 
but  she  gave  no  answer.  He  slightly  touched  her. 
"What  do  you  want?"  she  said,  and  turned  her  back 
toward  him.  "Tell  me,"  he  said,  "what  time  the  swan 
passed.  I  am  following  it,  and  come  out  and  point  the 
direction."  "Do  you  think  you  can  catch  up  to  it?" 
she  said.  "Yes,"  he  answered.  "Naubesah"  (fool- 
ishness), she  said.  She,  however,  went  out  and  pointed 
in  the  direction  he  should  go.  The  young  man  went 
slowly  till  the  sun  arose,  when  he  commenced  travelling 
at  his  accustomed  speed.  He  passed  tlie  day  in  run- 
ning, and  when  night  came,  he  was  unexpectedly  pleased 
to  find  himself  near  another  town;  and  when  at  a  dis- 
tance, he  heard  the  watchman  crying  out,  "We  are 
visited ;"  and  soon  the  men  of  the  village  stood  out  to 
see  the  stranger.  He  was  again  told  to  entei  the  lodge 
of  the  chief,  and  his  reception  was,  in  ever,  respect,  the 
same  as  he  met  the  previous  night;  only  that  the  young 
woman  was  more  beautiful,  and  receive  •  liim  verv  kiiullv, 
but  although  urged  to  stay,  his  mind  was  fixed  on  the 
object  of  his  journey.  Uefore  daylight  he  asked  the 
young  woman  what  time  the  Ked  Swan  passed,  and  to 
point  out  the  way.  She  did  so,  and  said  it  passed  yes- 
terday when  the  sun  was  between  midday  and  ptiixjlsh- 
"moo — its  falling  i)laee.  He  again  set  out  rather  slowly, 
but  when  the  sun  had  arisen  he  tried  his  speed  by  shot.t- 
ing  an  arrow  ahead,  and  running  after  it;  but  it  fell 
behind  him.   Nothing  remarkab.e  Imppened  in  the  course 


166 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


of  the  day,  and  he  went  on  leisurely.  Toward  night, 
he  came  to  the  lodge  of  an  old  man.  Some  time  after 
dark  he  saw  a  light  emitted  from  a  small. low  lodge. 
He  went  up  to  it  very  slyly,  and  peeping  through  the 
door,  saw  an  old  man  alone,  warming  his  back  before 
the  fire,  with  his  head  down  on  his  breast.  He  thought 
the  old  man  did  not  know  that  he  was  standing  near 
the  door,  but  in  this  he  was  disappointed ;  for  so  soon 
as  he  looked  in,  ''Walk  in,  Nosis,"*  he  said,  "take  a 
seat  opposite  to  me,  and  take  off  your  things  and  dry 
them,  for  you  must  be  fatigued;  and  I  will  prepare  you 
something  to  eat."  Odjibwa  did  as  he  was  requested. 
The  old  man,  whom  he  perceived  to  be  a  magician,  then 
said:  "My  kettle  with  water  stands  near  the  fire  ;"  and 
immediately  a  small  earthen  or  a  kind  of  metallic  pot 
with  legs  appeared  by  the  fire.  He  then  took  one  grain 
of  corn,  also  one  whortleberry,  and  put  them  in  the  pot. 
As  the  young  man  was  very  hungry,  he  thought  that 
his  chance  for  a  supper  was  but  small.  Not  a  word  or 
a  look,  however,  revealed  his  feelings.  The  pot  soon 
boiled,  when  the  old  man  spoke,  commanding  it  to  stand 
some  distance  from  the  fire;  "Nosis,"  said  he,  "feed 
yourself,"  uid  he  handed  him  a  dish  and  ladle  made 
out  of  the  same  metal  as  the  pot.  The  young  man  helped 
liimsc'lf  to  all  that  was  in  the  pot;  he  felt  ashamed  to 
\  ink  of  his  having  done  so,  but  before  he  could  speak, 
the  old  man  said,  "  Xosis,  eat,  cat;"  and  soon  after  he 
again  said,  "  Help  yourself  from  the  pot."  Oiljibwa  was 
surprised  on  looiving  into  it  to  see  it  full ;  ne  kept  on  taking 
all  out,  and  as  soon  as  it  wr-  :)ne,  it  was  again  filled, 
till  he  had  amply  satisfied  is  hunger.  The  uuigleian 
then  spoke,  and  the  pot  occupied  its  accustomed  i>hi(.'e 


*  M/  gramlcliihl. 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


167 


in  one  part  of  the  lodge.  The  young  man  then  leisurely 
reclined  back,  and  listened  to  the  predictions  of  his 
entertainer,  who  told  him  to  keep  on,  and  he  would  ob- 
tain his  object.  "To  tell  you  more,"  said  he,  "I  am 
not  permitted;  but  go  on  as  you  have  commenced,  and 
you  will  not  be  disappointed  ;  to-morrow  you  will  again 
reach  one  of  my  fellow  old  men;  but  the  one  you  will 
see  after  him  will  tell  you  all,  and  the  manner  in  which 
you  will  proceed  to  accomplish  your  journey.  Often 
has  this  lied  Swan  passed,  and  those  who  have  followed 
it  have  never  returned:  but  you  must  be  firm  in  your 
resolution,  and  be  prepared  for  all  events."  "  So  will 
it  be,"  answered  Odjibwa,  and  they  both  laid  down  to 
sleep.  Early  in  the  morning,  the  old  man  had  his 
magic  kettle  prepared,  so  that  his  guest  should  eat  before 
leaving.  When  leaving,  tne  old  man  gave  hira  his  parting 
advice. 

Odjibwa  set  out  in  bevter  spirits  than  he  had  done  since 
leaving  home.  Night  again  found  him  in  company  with 
an  old  man,  who  received  him  kindly,  and  directed  him 
on  his  way  in  the  morning.  He  travelled  with  a  light 
heart,  expecting  to  meet  the  one  who  was  to  give  him 
directior  ^5  how  to  ])roceed  to  get  the  Red  Swan.  Toward 
nightfall,  he  reached  the  third  old  man's  lodge.  Before 
coming  to  the  door,  he  heard  him  saying,  "Nosis,  come 
in,"  and  going  in  immediately,  he  felt  quite  at  home. 
The  old  man  prepared  him  something  to  eat,  acting  as 
the  other  magicians  had  done,  and  his  kettle  was  of  the 
same  dimensions  and  material.  The  old  man  waited 
till  lie  had  done  eating,  when  he  commenced  addressing 
him.  "  Voung  man,  tlie  errand  you  are  on  is  very  diffi- 
cult. Numbers  of  young  men  have  passed  with  the 
same  pur|)ose,  but  never  returned,  lie  careful,  and  if 
your  guardian  spirits  are  powerful,  you  may  succeed. 


168 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


This  Red  Swan  you  are  following,  is  the  daughter  of  a 
magician,  who  has  plenty  of  everything,  but  he  values 
his  daughter  but  little  less  than  wampum.  He  wore  a 
cap  of  wampum,  which  was  attached  to  his  scalp;  but 
powerful  Indians — warriors  of  a  distant  chief,  came  and 
told  h..  ,  that  their  chief's  daughter  was  on  the  brink 
of  the  grave,  and  she  herself  requested  his  scalp  of  wam- 
pum to  effect  a  cure.  '  If  I  can  only  see  it,  I  will  recover,' 
she  said,  and  it  was  for  this  reason  they  came,  and 
after  long  urging  the  magician,  he  ai,  last  consented 
to  pit  with  it,  only  from  the  idea  of  restoring  the 
yo'.r;!>:  Yoman  to  health;  although  when  he  took  it 
of^,  it  J  eft  his  head  bare  and  bloody.  Several  years 
have  passed  since,  and  it  has  not  healed.  The  warriors' 
coi  ii?  .  for  it,  was  only  a  cheat,  and  they  now  are  con- 
stant making  sport  of  it,  dancing  it  about  from  village 
to  village ;  and  on  every  insult  it  receives,  the  old  man 
groans  from  pain.  Those  Indians  are  too  powerful  for 
the  magician,  and  numbers  have  sacrificed  themselves  to 
recover  it  for  him,  but  without  success.  The  Red  Swan 
has  enticed  many  a  young  man,  as  she  has  done  you,  in 
order  to  get  them  to  procure  it,  and  whoever  is  the  for- 
tunate one  that  succeeds,  will  receive  the  Red  Swan  as 
his  reward.  In  the  morning  you  will  proceed  on  your 
way,  and  toward  evening  you  will  come  to  the  magician's 
lodge,  but  before  you  enter  you  will  hear  his  groans;  he 
will  immediately  ask  you  in,  ond  you  will  see  no  one 
but  himself;  he  will  mak-  inquirie&  of  you,  as  regards 
your  dreams,  and  the  pov  i  rs  of  your  j^  i.irdiaa  spirits; 
he  will  then  ask  you  to  attempt  the  recovery  of  his 
scalp ;  he  will  show  you  the  direction,  and  if  you  feel 
inclined,  as  I  dare  say  you  do,  go  forward,  my  son, 
with  a  strong  heart,  persevere,  and  I  have  a  presenti- 
ment you  will  succeed."    The  young  man  answered,  "  I 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


1G9 


•i- 


will  try."  Early  next  morninj^,  after  having;  eaten  from 
the  magic  kettle,  he  started  off  on  his  journey.  Toward 
evening  he  came  to  the  lodge  as  he  was  told,  and  soon 
heard  the  groans  of  the  magician.  "Come  in,"  he 
said,  even  before  the  young  man  reached  the  door.  On 
entering  he  saw  his  head  all  bloody,  and  he  was  groaning 
most  terribly.  "  Sit  down,  sit  down,"  he  said,  "  while 
I  prepare  you  something  to  eat,"  at  the  same  time 
doing  as  the  other  magicians  had  done,  in  preparing 
food — "  You  see,"  he  said,  "  how  poor  I  am ;  I  have  to 
attend  to  all  my  wants,"  He  said  this  to  conceal  the 
fact  that  the  Red  Swan  was  there,  but  Odjibwa  per- 
ceived that  the  lodge  was  partitioned,  and  he  heard  a 
rustling  noise,  now  and  then,  in  that  quarter,  which 
satisfied  him  that  it  was  occupied.  After  h.aving  taken 
his  leggings  and  moccasins  off,  and  eaten,  the  old  magi- 
cian commenced  telling  him  how  he  had  lost  his  scalp 
— the  insults  it  was  receiving — the  i)ain  he  was  sulfering 
in  consequence — his  wishes  to  regain  it — the  unsuc- 
cessful attempts  that  had  already  been  made,  and  the 
numbers  and  power  of  those  who  detained  it;  stated 
the  best  and  most  probable  way  of  getting  it;  touching 
the  young  man  on  his  pride  and  ambition,  by  the  proposed 
adventure,  and  last,  he  spoke  of  such  things  as  would 
make  an  Indian  rich.  He  would  interrupt  his  discourse 
by  now  and  then  groaning,  and  saying,  "  Oh,  how  shame- 
fully they  are  treating  it."  Odjibwa  listened  with  solemn 
attention.  The  old  man  then  asked  him  about  his 
dreams — his  dreams  (or  as  he  saw  when  asleep*)  at 
the  particular  time  he  had  fasted  and  blackened  his 
face  to  procure  guardian  spirits. 

The  yoiuig  man  then  told  him  one  dream ;  the  niaui- 


*  Eiiaw-bauuduiu. 


16 


^ 

► 


no 


TUE  RED  SV/AN. 


cian  groaned;  "No,  that  is  not  it,"  he  said.  The 
young  man  told  him  another.  He  groaned  again ; 
"That  is  not  it,"  he  said.  The  young  man  told  him 
of  two  or  three  others.  The  magician  groaned  at  each 
recital,  and  said,  rather  peevishly,  "No,  those  are  not 
them."  The  young  man  then  thought  to  himself,  Who 
are  you  ?  you  may  groan  as  much  as  you  please  ;  I  am 
inclined  not  to  tell  you  any  more  dreams.  The  magi- 
cian then  ST  oke  in  rather  a  supplicating  tone.  "  Have 
you  no  more  dreams  of  another  kind  ?"  "  Yes,"  said 
the  young  man,  and  told  him  one.  "  That  is  it,  that 
is  it,"  he  cried;  "you  will  cause  me  to  live.  That  was 
what  I  was  wishing  you  to  say ;"  and  he  rejoiced 
greatly.  "  Will  you  then  go  and  see  if  you  cannot 
procure  my  scalp?"  "Yes,"  said  the  young  man, 
"  I  will  go  ;  and  the  day  after  to-morrow,*  when  you 
hear  the  cries  of  the  Kakak,f  you  will  know,  by  this 
sign,  that  I  am  successful,  and  you  must  prepare  your 
head,  and  lean  it  out  through  the  door,  so  that  the 
moment  I  arrive,  I  may  place  your  scalp  on."  "Yes, 
yes,"  said  the  magician  ;  "  as  you  say,  it  will  be  done." 
Early  next  morning,  he  set  out  on  his  perilo.is  adven- 
ture, and  about  the  time  that  the  sun  hangs  toward  home, 
(afternoon)  he  heard  the  shouts  of  a  great  many  people, 
lie  was  in  a  wood  at  the  time,  and  saw,  as  he  thought, 
only  a  few  men ;  but  the  further  he  went,  the  more  nu- 
merous they  appeared.  On  emerging  into  a  plain,  their 
heads  appeared  like  the  hanging  leaves  for  number. 
In  the  centre  he  perceived  a  post,  and  something  wav- 
ing on  it,  which  was  the  scalp.     Now  and  then  the  air 


4!? 


1 


*  The  Indian  expression  is,  Awuas-Waubung — the  day  be- 
yond  to-morrow. 

t  A  species  of  hawk. 


•I 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


ni 


5c- 


I 

I 


f 


was  rent  with  the  Sait-sau-qnan,  for  they  were  dancing 
the  war  dance  around  it.  Before  he  could  be  perceived, 
he  turned  himself  into  a  No-noskau-see  (humming- 
bird), and  flew  toward  the  scalp. 

As  he  passed  some  of  those  who  were  standing  by, 
he  flew  close  to  their  ears,  making  the  humming  noise 
which  this  bird  does  when  it  flies.  They  jumped  on 
one  side,  and  asked  each  other  what  it  could  be.  By 
this  time  he  had  nearly  reached  the  scalp,  but  fearing 
he  should  be  perceived  while  untying  it,  he  changed 
himself  into  a  Me-sau-be-wau-aun  (the  down  of  any- 
thing that  floats  lightly  on  the  air),  and  then  floated 
slowly  and  lightly  on  to  the  scalp.  He  untied  it,  and 
moved  off  slowly,  as  the  weight  was  almost  too  great. 
It  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  keep  it  up,  and  pre- 
vent the  Indians  from  snatching  it  away.  The  moment 
they  saw  it  was  moving,  they  filled  the  air  with  their 
cries  of  "It  is  taken  from  us;  it  is  taken  from  us." 
He  continued  moving  a  few  feet  above  them  :  the  rush 
and  hum  of  the  people  was  like  the  dead  beating  surges 
after  a  storm.  He  soon  gained  on  them,  and  they  gave 
up  the  pursuit.  After  going  a  little  further  he  changed 
himself  into  a  Kakak,  and  flew  off"  with  his  prize,  mak- 
ing that  peculiar  noise  which  this  bird  makes. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  magician  had  followed  his  in- 
structions, placing  his  head  outside  of  the  lodge,  as 
soon  as  he  heard  the  cry  of  the  Kakak,  and  soon  after 
he  heard  the  rustling  of  its  wings.  In  a  moment  Od- 
jibwa  stood  before  him.  He  immediately  gave  the  ma- 
gician a  severe  blow  on  the  head  with  the  wampum 
scalp:  his  limbs  extended  a 


qi 


)ny 


the  effects  of  the  blow:  the  scalp  adhered,  and  the 
young  man  walked  in  and  sat  down,  feeling  perfectly  at 
home.     The  magician  was  so  long  iu  recovering  from 


112 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


I 


M 


t  i 


the  stunninp^  blow,  that  the  yonnf^  man  feared  he  had 
killed  him,  lie  was  however  ])leased  to  see  him  show 
signs  of  life;  he  first  commenced  rioving;,  and  soon  ?at 
up.  But  how  surprised  was  Odjibwa  to  see,  not  i\n 
aged  man,  far  in  years  and  decrepitude,  but  one  of  tlie 
handsomest  young  men  he  ever  saw  stand  up  before 
him. 

"  Thank  you,  my /newt/,"  he  said ;  "you  see  thai  your 
kindness  and  bravery  have  restored  me  to  my  former 
fill  ipe.  It  was  so  ordained,  and  you  have  now  accom- 
pli>lied  t'ne  victory."  The  young  magician  urged  the 
stay  of  his  deliverer  for  a  few  days;  and  they  soon 
formed  a  warm  attachment  for  each  other.  The  magi- 
cian never  alluded  to  the  lied  Swan  in  their  conver- 
sations. 

At  last,  the  day  arrived  when  Odjibwa  made  prepa- 
rations to  n^turn.  The  young  magician  amply  repaid 
liini  for  his  kindness  and  bravery,  by  various  kinds  of 
wampnin,  robes,  and  all  such  things  as  he  had  need  of 
to  make  him  an  influential  man.  But  though  the  young 
man's  curiosity  '-vas  at  its  height  about  the  Red  Swan, 
he  controlled  bis  feelings,  and  never  so  much  as  even 
hinted  of  her ;  feeling  that  he  would  surrender  a  point 
of  propriety  in  so  doing;  while  the  one  he  had  render- 
ed such  service  to,  whose  hospitality  he  was  now  enjoy- 
ing, and  who  had  richly  rewarded  him,  had  never  so 
much  as  even  mentioned  anything  about  her,  but  studi- 
ously concealed  her. 

Odjibwa's  pack  for  travelling  was  ready,  and  he  was 
taking  his  firewell  smoke,  when  the  young  magician 
thus  addressed  him  :  "Friend,  you  know  for  what  cause 
you  came  thus  far.  You  have  accomplished  your  object, 
and  conferred  a  lasting  obligation  on  me.  Your  per- 
severance shall  not  go  unrewarded;  and  if  you  under- 


;'";l|, ■.;!<'' 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


173 


was 

rician 

Icause 

l)ject, 

pcr- 
luder- 


tako  other  things  with  the  same  spirit  you  have  this, 
you  will  never  fail  to  accomplish  them.  My  duty  ren- 
ders it  necessary  for  me  to  remain  where  I  am,  although 
I  should  feel  happy  to  go  with  you.  I  have  given  you 
all  you  will  need  as  long  as  you  live ;  but  I  see  you  feel 
backward  to  speak  about  the  Red  Swan.  I  vowed  that 
whoever  procured  me  my  scalp,  should  be  rewarded 
by  possessing  the  Red  Swan."  lie  then  spoke,  and 
knocked  on  the  partition.  '''!.<  door  immediately 
opened,  and  the  Red  Swan  m(  i  ^  eager  gaze.  She 
was  a  most  beautiful  female,  and  a.s  she  stood  majesti- 
cally before  him,  it  would  be  impossible  to  describe  her 
charms,  for  she  looked  as  if  she  did  not  belong  to  earth. 
**  Take  her,"  the  young  magician  said ;  "she  is  my  sister, 
treat  her  well ;  she  is  worthy  of  you,  and  what  you  have 
done  for  me  merits  more.  She  is  ready  to  go  with  you 
to  your  kindred  and  friends,  and  has  been  so  ever  since 
your  arrival,  and  my  good  wishes  go  with  you  both." 
She  then  looked  very  kindly  on  her  husband,  who  now 
bid  farewell  to  his  friend  indeed,  and  accompanied  by 
the  object  of  his  wishes,  he  commenced  retracing  his 
footsteps. 

They  travelled  slowly,  and  after  two  or  three  days 
reached  the  lodge  of  the  third  old  man,  who  had  fed 
him  from  his  small  magic  pot.  He  was  very  kind,  and 
said,  "You  see  what  your  perseverance  has  procured 
you;  do  so  always  and  you  will  succeed  in  all  things 
you  undertake." 

On  the  following  morning  when  they  were  going  to 
start,  he  pulled  from  the  side  of  the  lodge  a  bag,  which 
he  presented  to  the  young  man,  saying,  "Nosis,  I  give 
you  this;  it  contains  a  present  for  you;  and  I  hope  you 
will  live  happily  till  old  age."  They  then  bid  farewell 
to  him  and  proceeded  on. 

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174 


TUE  RED  SWAN. 


They  soon  reached  the  second  old  man's  lodge. 
Their  reception  there  was  the  same  as  at  the  first;  he 
also  gave  them  a  present,  with  the  old  man's  wishes 
that  they  would  be  happy.  They  went  on  and  reached 
the  first  town,  which  the  young  man  had  passed  in  his 
pursuit.  The  watchman  gave  notice,  and  he  was  shown 
into  the  chief's  lodge.  "Sit  down  there,  son-in-law," 
said  the  chief,  pointing  to  a  place  near  his  daughter. 
"And  you  also,"  he  said  to  the  Red  Swan. 
•  The  young  woman  of  the  lodge  was  busy  in  making 
something,  but  she  tried  to  show  her  indifference  about 
what  was  taking  place,  for  she  did  not  even  raise  her 
head  to  see  who  was  come.  Soon  the  chief  said,  "Let 
some  one  bring  in  the  bundle  of  our  son-in-law."  When 
it  was  brought  in,  the  young  man  opened  one  of  the 
bags,  which  he  had  received  from  one  of  the  old  men ; 
it  contained  wampum,  robes,  and  various  other  articles; 
he  presented  them  to  his  father-in-law,  and  all  express- 
ed their  surprise  at  the  value  and  richness  of  the  gift. 
The  chief's  daughter  then  only  stole  a  glance  at  the 
present,  then  at  Odjibwa  and  his  beautiful  wife;  she 
stopped  working,  and  remained  silent  and  thoughtful 
all  the  evening.  They  conversed  about  his  adventures; 
after  this  the  chief  told  him  that  he  should  take  his 
daughter  along  with  him  in  the  morning;  the  young 
man  said  "Yes."  The  chief  then  spoke  out,  saying, 
"Daughter,  be  ready  to  go  with  him  in  the  morning." 

There  was  u  Munjeukewis  in  the  lodge,  who  thought 
to  have  got  the  young  woman  to  wife ;  he  jumped  up, 
saying,  "Who  is  he  (meaning  the  young  man),  that  he 
should  take  her  for  a  few  presents.  I  will  kill  him," 
and  he  raised  a  knife  which  he  had  in  his  hand.  But 
he  only  waited  till  some  one  held  him  back,  and  then 
sat  down,  for  he  was  too  great  u  coward  to  do  as  ho 


TU£  EED  SWAN. 


175 


)ress- 
gift. 
the 
she 
tful 
ures ; 
his 
oung 

»g 
ught 

I  up, 

the 

im," 

JJut 

then 

s  ho 


..#« »» 


had  threatened.  Early  they  took  their  departure,  amid 
the  greetings  of  their  new  friends,  and  toward  evening 
reached  the  other  town.  The  watchman  gave  the 
signal,  and  numbers  of  men,  women,  and  children  stood 
out  to  see  them.  They  were  again  shown  into  the 
chiefs  lodge,  who  welcomed  them  by  saying,  "  Son-in- 
law,  you  are  welcome,"  and  requested  him  to  take  a 
seat  by  his  daughter ;  and  the  two  women  did  the  same. 

After  the  usual  formalities  of  smoking  and  eating, 
the  chief  requested  the  young  man  to  relate  his  travels 
in  the  hearing  of  all  the  inmates  of  the  lodge,  and  those 
who  came  to  see.  They  looked  with  admiration  and 
astonishment  at  the  Red  Swan,  for  she  was  so  beautiful. 
Odjibwa  gave  them  his  whole  history.  The  chief  then 
told  him  that  his  brothers  had  been  to  their  town  in 
search  of  him,  but  had  returned,  and  given  up  all  hopes 
of  ever  seeing  him  again.  Ue  concluded  by  saying  that 
since  he  had  been  so  fortunate  and  so  manly,  he  should 
take  his  daughter  with  him;  "for  although  your  bro- 
thers," said  he,  "  were  here,  they  were  too  timid  to 
enter  any  of  our  lodges,  and  merely  inquired  for  you 
and  returned.  You  will  take  my  daughter,  treat  her 
well,  and  that  will  bind  us  more  closely  together." 

It  is  alwavs  the  case  in  towns,  that  some  one  in  it  is 
foolish  or  clownish.  It  happened  to  be  so  here;  for  a 
^faujeekewis  was  in  the  lodge;  and  after  the  young 
man  had  given  his  fathcr-in-Iaw  presents,  as  he  did 
to  the  first,  this  Maujeekewis  jura[)ed  up  in  a  passion, 
saying,  "Who  is  this  stranger,  that  he  should  have 
her?  I  want  her  myself."  The  chief  told  him  to  be 
quiet,  and  not  to  u  sturb  or  quarrel  with  one  who  was 
enjoying  their  hospitality.  "No,  no,"  he  boisterously 
cried,  and  made  an  attempt  to  strike  the  stranger. 
Odjibwa  was  above  fearing  his  threats,  and  paid  no 


116 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


K 


attention  to  him.  He  cried  the  louder,  "  I  will  have 
her;  I  will  have  her."  In  an  instant  he  was  laid  flat 
on  the  ground  from  a  blow  of  a  war  club  given  by  the 
chief.  After  he  came  to  himself,  the  chief  upbraided 
him  for  his  foolishness,  and  told  him  to  go  out  and  tell 
stories  to  the  old  women. 

Their  arrangements  were  then  made,  and  the  stranger 
invited  a  number  of  families  to  go  and  visit  their  hunt- 
ing grounds,  as  there  was  plenty  of  game.  They  con- 
sented, and  in  the  morning  a  large  party  were  assem- 
bled to  accompany  the  young  man ;  and  the  chief  with 
a  large  party  of  warriors  escorted  them  a  long  distance. 
When  ready  to  return  the  chief  made  a  speech,  and  in- 
voked the  blessing  of  the  great  good  Spirit  on  his  son- 
in-law  and  party. 

After  a  number  of  days'  travel,  Odjibwa  and  his 
party  came  in  sight  of  his  home.  The  party  rested  while 
he  went  alone  in  advance  to  see  his  brothers.  When 
he  entered  the  lodge  he  found  it  all  dirty  and  covered 
with  ashes :  on  one  side  was  his  eldest  brother,  with  his 
face  blackened,  and  sitting  amid  ashes,  crying  aloud. 
On  the  other  side  was  Maujeekewis,  his  other  brother; 
his  face  was  also  blackened,  but  his  head  was  covered 
with  feathers  and  swan's  down ;  he  looked  so  odd,  that 
the  young  man  could  not  keep  from  laughing,  for  he 
appeared  and  pretended  to  be  so  absorbed  with  grief 
that  he  did  not  notice  his  brother's  arrival.  Thi  est 
jumped  up  and  shook  hands  with  him,  and  kisscu  Aim, 
and  felt  very  happy  to  see  him  again. 

Odjibwa,  after  seeing  all  things  put  to  rights,  told 
them  that  he  had  brought  each  of  them  a  wife.  When 
Maujeekewis  heard  about  the  wife,  he  jumped  up  and 
said,  "Why  is  it  just  now  that  you  have  come?"  and 
made  for  the  dour  and  peeped  out  to  see  the  woman. 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


177 


He  then  commenced  jumping  and  laughing,  saying, 
"  Women  I  women  1"  Tliat  was  the  only  reception  he 
gave  his  brother.  Odjibwa  then  told  them  to  wash 
themselves  and  prepare,  for  he  would  go  and  fetch  them 
in.  Maujeekewis  jumped  and  washed  himself,  but 
would  every  now  and  then  go  and  peep  out  to  see  the 
women.  When  they  came  near,  he  said,  "  I  will  have 
this  one,  and  that  one;"  he  did  not  exactly  know  which 
— he  would  go  and  sit  down  for  an  instant,  and  then  go 
and  peep  and  laugh ;  he  acted  like  a  madman. 

As  soon  as  order  was  restored,  and  all  seated,  Od- 
jibwa presented  one  of  the  women  to  his  eldest  brother, 
saying,  "These  women  were  given  to  me  ;  I  now  give 
one  to  each ;  I  intended  so  from  the  first."  Maujeeke- 
wis spoke,  and  said,  "I  think  three  wives  would  have 
been  enough  for  you."  The  young  man  led  one  to  Mau- 
jeekewis, saying,  "My  brother,  here  is  one  for  you,  and 
live  happily."  Maujeekewis  hung  down  his  head  as  if 
he  was  ashamed,  but  would  everv  now  and  then  steal  a 
glance  at  his  wife,  and  also  at  the  other  women.  By 
and  by  he  turned  toward  his  wife,  and  acted  as  if  he  had 
been  married  for  years.  "Wife,"  he  said,  "  I  will  go  and 
hunt,"  and  off  he  started. 

All  lived  peaceably  for  some  time,  and  their  town 
prospered,  the  inhabitants  increased,  and  everything 
was  abundant  among  them.  One  day  dissatisfaction 
was  manifested  in  the  conduct  of  the  two  elder  brothers, 
on  account  of  Odjibwa's  having  taken  their  deceased 
father's  magic  arrows :  they  upbraided  and  urged  him 
to  procure  others  if  he  could.  Their  object  was  to  ^et 
him  away,  so  that  one  of  them  might  afterward  get  his 
wife.  One  dny,  after  listening  to  them,  he  told  them 
he  would  go.  Maujeekewis  and  himself  went  together 
into  a  sweating  lodge  to  purify  themselves.    Even  there, 


ITS 


THE  RED  S\VAN. 


although  it  was  held  sacred,  Maujeekewis  upbraided 
him  for  the  arrows.  He  told  him  again  he  would  go ; 
and  next  day,  true  to  his  word,  he  left  them.  After 
travelling  a  long  way  he  came  to  an  opening  in  the 
earth,  and  descending,  it  led  him  to  the  abode  of  depart- 
ed spirits.  The  country  appeared  beautiful,  the  extent 
of  it  was  lost  in  the  distance :  he  saw  animals  of  various 
kinds  in  abundance.  The  first  he  came  near  to  were 
buffalo  ;  his  surprise  was  great  when  these  animals  ad- 
dressed him  as  human  beings.  They  asked  him  what 
he  came  for,  how  he  descended,  why  he  was  so  bold  as 
to  visit  the  abode  of  the  dead.  He  told  them  he  was 
in  search  of  magic  arrows  to  appease  his  brothers. 
"Very  well,"  said  the  leader  of  the  buffaloes,  whose 
whole  form  was  nothing  but  bone.  "  Yes,  we  know  it," 
and  he  and  his  followers  moved  off  a  little  space  as  if 
they  were  afraid  of  him.  "You  have  come,"  resumed 
the  Buffalo  Spirit,  "to  a  place  where  a  living  man  has 
never  before  been.  You  will  return  immediately  to 
your  tribe,  for  your  brothers  are  trying  to  dishonor 
your  wife ;  and  you  will  live  to  a  very  old  age,  and  live 
and  die  happily ;  you  can  go  no  further  in  these  abodes 
of  ours."  Odjibwa  looked,  as  he  thought  to  the  west, 
and  saw  a  bright  light,  as  if  the  sun  was  shining  in  its 
splendor,  but  he  saw  no  sun.  "What  light  is  that  I 
see  yonder  ?"  he  asked.  The  all-boned  buffalo  answered, 
"It  is  the  place  where  those  who  were  good  dwell." 
"  And  that  dark  cloud  ?"  Odjibwa  again  asked.  "  Mud- 
jee-izzhi-wabezewin,"  (wickedness)  answered  the  buffalo. 
He  asked  no  more  questions,  and,  with  the  aid  of  his 
guardian  spirits,  again  stood  on  this  earth  and  saw  the 
sun  giving  light  as  usual,  and  breathed  the  pure  air. 
All  else  he  saw  in  the  abodes  of  the  dead,  and  his  travels 
and  actions  previous  to  his  return,  are  unknown.    After 


■•■.# 


THE  RED  SWAN. 


170 


)raidecl 
lid  go; 
After 
in  the 
depart- 
!  extent 
various 
to  were 
iials  ad- 
m  what 
bold  as 
he  was 
rothers. 
,  whose 
now  it," 
ice  as  if 
resumed 
(lan  has 
Eitely  to 
ishonor 
and  live 
abodes 
le  west, 
g  in  its 
3  that  I 
swered, 
dwell." 
'•Mud- 
butfalo. 
of  his 
saw  the 
ure  air. 
travels 
After 


wandering  a  long  time  in  quest  of  information  to  make 
his  people  happy,  he  one  evening  drew  near  to  his  vil- 
lage or  town  ;  passing  all  the  other  lodges  and  coming 
to  his  own,  he  heard  his  brothers  at  high  words  with 
each  other;  they  were  quarrelling  for  the  possession  of 
his  wife.  She  had,  however,  remained  constant,  and 
mourned  the  absence  and  probable  loss  of  her  husband; 
but  she  had  mourned  him  with  the  dignity  of  virtue. 
The  noble  youth  listened  till  he  was  satisfied  of  the  base 
principles  of  his  brothers.  He  then  entered  the  lodge, 
with  the  stern  air  and  conscious  dignity  of  a  brave  and 
honest  man.  He  spoke  not  a  word,  but  placing  the 
magic  arrows  to  his  bow,  drew  them  to  their  length 
and  laid  the  brothers  dead  at  his  feet.  Thus  ended  the 
contest  between  the  hermit's  sons,  and  a  firm  and 
happy  union  was  consummated  between  Odjibwa,  or 
him  of  the  primitive  or  intonated  voice,  and  the  Red 
Swan. 


TAU-WAU-CHEE-HEZKAW, 


OR 


THE  WHITE  FEATHER. 


A  DACOTAH   LEGEND. 


There  was  an  old  man  living  in  the  centre  of  a 
forest,  with  his  grandson,  whom  he  had  taken  when 
quite  an  infant.  The  child  had  no  parents,  brothers, 
or  sisters ;  they  had  all  been  destroyed  by  six  large 
giants,  and  he  had  been  informed  that  he  had  no  other 
relative  living  besides  his  grandfather.  The  band  to 
whom  he  belonged  had  put  up  their  children  on  a 
wager  in  a  race  against  those  of  the  giants,  and  had 
thus  lost  them.  There  was  an  old  tradition  in  the  band, 
that  it  would  produce  a  great  man,  who  would  wear  a 
white  feather,  and  who  would  astonish  every  one  with 
his  skill  and  feats  of  bravery. 

The  grandfather,  as  soon  as  the  child  could  play 
about,  gave  him  a  bow  and  arrows  to  amuse  himself. 
lie  went  into  the  edge  of  the  woods  one  day,  and  saw 
a  rabbit;  but  not  knowing  what  it  was,  he  ran  homo 
and  described  it  to  his  grandfather.  He  told  him  what 
it  was,  that  its  flesh  was  good  to  eat,  and  that  if  he 
would  shoot  one  of  his  arrows  into  its  body,  he  would 
kill  it.     lie  did  so,  and  brought  the  little  animal  home, 


•i 


TAU-WAU-CIIEE-IIEZKAW;    OR  THE  WHITE  FEATHER.    181 


V, 


centre  of  a 
taken  when 
IB,  brothers, 
)y  six  large 
ad  no  other 
'he  band  to 
ildren  on  a 
its,  and  had 
in  the  band, 
rould  wear  a 
ery  one  with 

could  play 
luse  himself, 
lay,  and  saw 
le  ran  homo 
[old  him  what 
4  that  if  he 
|dy,  he  would 

uuual  home, 


5& 


which  he  asked  his  grandfather  to  boil,  that  theymig'it 
feast  on  it.  lie  humored  the  boy  in  this,  and  en- 
couraged him  to  go  on  in  acquiring  the  knowledge  of 
hunting,  until  he  could  kill  deer  and  larger  animals ; 
and  he  became,  as  he  grew  up,  an  expert  hunter.  As 
they  lived  alone,  and  away  from  other  Indians,  his  cu- 
riosity was  excited  to  know  what  was  passing  in  the 
world.  One  day  he  came  to  the  edge  of  a  prairie, 
where  he  saw  ashes  like  those  at  his  grandfather's  lodge, 
and  lodge-poles  left  standing.  He  returned  and  in- 
quired whether  his  grandfather  put  up  the  poles  and 
made  the  fire.  He  was  answered  no,  nor  did  he  believe 
that  he  had  seen  anything  of  the  kind.  It  was  all  ima- 
gination. 

Another  day  he  went  out  to  see  what  there  was 
curious ;  and,  on  entering  the  woods,  he  heard  a  voice 
calling  out  to  him,  "Come  here,  you  destined  wearer  of 
the  White  Feather.  You  do  not  yet  wear  it,  but  you 
are  worthy  of  it.  Return  home  and  take  a  short  nap. 
You  will  dream  of  hearing  a  voice,  which  will  tell  you 
to  rise  and  smoke.  You  will  see  in  your  dream  a  pipe, 
smoking  sack,  and  a  large  white  feather.  When  you 
awake  you  will  find  these  articles.  Put  the  feather  on 
your  head,  and  you  will  become  a  great  hunter,  a  great 
warrior,  and  a  great  man,  capable  of  doing  anything. 
As  a  proof  that  you  will  become  a  great  hunter,  when 
you  smoke,  the  smoke  will  turn  into  pigeons."  The 
voice  then  informed  him  who  he  was,  and  disclosed  the 
true  character  of  his  grandfather,  who  had  imposed 
upon  him.  The  voice-spirit  then  gave  him  a  vine,  and 
told  him  he  was  of  an  age  to  revenge  the  injuries  of  his 
relations.  "When  you  meet  your  enemy,"  continued 
the  spirit,  "you  will  run  a  race  with  him.  He  will  not 
see  the  vine,  because  it  is  enchanted.  While  von  are 
IG 


182 


TAU-WAU-CHEE-IIEZKAW ;    OR, 


: 


I 


running,  you  will  throw  it  over  his  head  and  entangle 
him,  so  that  you  will  win  the  race." 

Long  ere  this  speech  was  ended,  he  had  turned  to  the 
quarter  from  which  the  voice  proceeded,  and  was  aston- 
ished to  behold  a  man,  for  as  yet  he  had  never  seen  any 
man  besides  his  grandfather,  whose  object  it  was  to 
keep  him  in  ignorance.  But  the  circumstance  that  gave 
him  the  most  surprise  was,  that  this  man,  who  had  the 
looks  of  great  age,  was  composed  of  wood  from  his 
breast  downward,  and  appeared  to  be  fixed  in  the  earth. 

He  returned  home,  slept,  heard  the  voice,  awoke, 
and  found  the  promised  articles.  His  grandfather  was 
greatly  surprised  to  find  him  with  a  white  feather  on 
his  forehead,  and  to  see  flocks  of  pigeons  flying  out  of 
his  lodge.  He  then  recollected  what  had  been  pre- 
dicted, and  began  to  weep  at  the  prospect  of  losing  his 
charge. 

Invested  with  these  honors,  the  young  man  de- 
parted the  next  morning  to  seek  his  enemies  and  gratify 
his  revenge.  The  giants  lived  in  a  very  high  lodge  in 
the  middle  of  a  wood.  He  travelled  on  till  he  came  to 
this  lodge,  where  he  found  that  his  coming  had  been 
made  known  by  the  little  spirits  who  carry  the  news. 
The  giants  came  out,  and  gave  a  cry  of  joy  as  they  saw 
him  coming.  When  he  approached  nearer,  they  began 
to  make  sport  of  him,  saying,  "Here  comes  the  little 
man  with  the  white  feather,  who  is  to  achieve  such 
wonders."  They,  however,  spoke  very  fair  to  him 
when  he  came  up,  saying  he  was  a  brave  man,  and 
would  do  brave  things.  This  they  said  to  encourage, 
and  the  more  surely  to  deceive  him.  He,  however, 
understood  the  object. 

He  went  fearlessly  up  to  the  lodge.  They  told 
him  to  commence  the  race  with  the  smallest  of  their 


THE  WHITE  FEATHER. 


183 


kd  entangle 


rned  to  the 
was  aston- 
er  seen  any 
i  it  was  to 
:e  that  gave 
^ho  had  the 
d  from  his 
n  the  earth, 
ice,  awoke, 
dfather  was 
feather  on 
lying  out  of 
I  been  pre- 
)f  losing  his 

g  raan  de- 
an d  gratify 
h  lodge  in 


le  came  to 
had  been 
the  news. 
as  they  saw 
hey  began 
the  little 
neve  such 
lir  to  him 
man,  and 
encourage, 
however, 

They   told 
jt  of  their 


number.  The  point  to  which  they  wore  to  run  was  a 
peeled  tree  towards  the  rising  sun,  and  then  back  to  the 
starting-place,  which  was  marked  by  a  CiiAUNKAiirEE, 
or  war-club,  made  of  iron.  This  club  was  the  stake, 
and  whoever  won  it  was  to  use  it  in  beating  the  other's 
brains  out.  If  he  beat  the  first  giant,  he  was  to  try  the  " 
second,  and  so  on  until  they  had  all  measured  speed 
with  him.  lie  won  the  first  race  by  a  dexterous  use  of 
the  vine,  and  immediately  despatched  his  competitor, 
and  cut  off  his  head.  Next  morning  he  ran  with  the  se- 
cond giant,  whom  he  also  outran,  killed,  and  decapitated. 
lie  proceeded  in  this  way  for  five  successive  mornings, 
always  conquering  by  the  use  of  his  vine,  cutting  off 
the  heads  of  the  vanquished.  The  survivor  acknow- 
ledged his  power,  but  prepared  secretly  to  deceive  him. 
He  wished  him  to  leave  the  heads  he  had  cut  off,  as 
he  believed  he  could  again  reunite  them  with  the 
bodies,  by  means  of  one  of  their  medtcmes.  White 
Feather  insisted,  however,  in  carrying  all  the  heads  to 
his  grandfather.  One  more  contest  was  to  be  tried, 
which  would  decide  the  victory  ;  but,  before  going  to 
the  giant's  lodge  on  the  sixth  morning,  he  met  his  old 
counsellor  in  the  woods,  who  was  stationary.  He  told 
him  that  he  was  about  to  be  deceived.  That  he  had 
never  known  any  other  sex  but  his  own  ;  but  that,  as 
he  went  on  his  way  to  the  lodge,  he  would  meet  the 
most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world.  He  must  pay  no 
attention  to  her,  but,  on  meeting  her,  he  must  vvish  him- 
self changed  into  a  ""male  elk.  The  transformation 
would  take  place  immediately,  when  he  must  go  to 
feeding  and  not  regard  her. 

He  proceeded  towards  the  lodge,  met  the  female, 
and  became  an  elk.  She  reproached  him  for  having 
turned  himself  into  an  elk  on  seeing  her;  said  she  had 


i 


n 
1 


*   ♦! 


184 


TAU-WAU-CHEE-IIEZKAW ;    OR, 


travelled  a  p^reat  distance  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  him, 
and  hecoining  his  wife.  Now  this  woman  was  the  sixth 
giant,  who  had  assumed  this  disguise ;  hut  Tau-Wau- 
Chee-Hezkaw  remained  in  ignorance  of  it.  ller  re- 
proaches and  her  beauty  aftected  him  so  much,  that  he 
wished  himself  a  man  again,  and  he  at  once  resumed 
his  natural  shape.  They  sat  down  together,  and  he 
began  to  caress  her,  and  make  love  to  her.  lie  finally 
ventured  to  lay  his  head  on  her  lap,  and  went  to  sleep. 
She  pushed  his  head  aside  at  first,  for  the  purpose  of 
trying  if  he  was  really  asleep ;  and  when  she  was  satis- 
fied he  was,  she  took  her  axe  and  broke  his  back.  She 
then  assumed  her  natural  shape,  which  was  in  the  form 
of  the  sixth  giant,  and  afterwards  changed  him  into  a 
dog,  in  which  degraded  form  he  followed  his  enemy  to 
the  lodge.  He  took  the  white  feather  from  his  brow, 
and  wore  it  as  a  trophy  on  his  own  head. 

There  was  an  Indian  village  at  some  distance,  in 
which  there  lived  two  girls,  who  were  rival  sisters,  the 
daughters  of  a  chief.  They  were  fasting  to  acquire 
power  for  the  purpose  of  enticing  the  wearer  of  the 
white  feather  to  visit  their  village.  They  each  secretly 
hoped  to  engage  his  affections.  Each  one  built  herself 
a  lodge  at  a  short  distance  from  the  village.  The 
giant  knowing  this,  and  having  now  obtained  the 
valued  plume,  went  immediately  to  visit  them.  As  he 
approached,  the  girls  saw  and  recognized  the  feather. 
The  eldest  sister  prepared  her  lodge  with  great  care 
and  parade,  so  as  to  attract  the  eye.  The  younger, 
supposing  that  he  was  a  man  of  sense,  and  would  not 
be  enticed  by  mere  parade,  touched  nothing  in  her 
lodge,  but  left  it  as  it  ordinarily  was.  The  eldest  went 
out  to  meet  him,  and  invited  him  in.  He  accepted  her 
invitation,  and  made  her  his  wife.    The  younger  invited 


THE  WHITE  FEATHER. 


185 


the  enchanted  dog  into  her  lodge,  and  made  him  a 
good  bed,  and  treated  him  with  as  much  attention  as  if 
he  were  her  husband. 

The  giant,  supposing  that  whoever  possessed  the 
white  feather  possessed  also  all  its  virtues,  went  oiit 
upon  the  prairie  to  hunt,  but  returned  unsuccessful. 
The  dog  went  out  the  same  day  a  hunting  upon  the 
banks  of  a  river.  He  drew  a  stone  out  of  the  water, 
which  immediately  became  a  beaver.  The  next  day  the 
giant  followed  the  dog,  and  hiding  behind  a  tree,  saw 
the  manner  in  which  the  dog  went  into  the  river  and 
drew  out  a  stone,  which  at  once  turned  into  a  beaver. 
As  soon  as  the  dog  left  the  place,  the  giant  went  to  the 
river,  and  observing  the  same  manner,  drew  out  a  stone, 
and  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  it  transformed  into  a 
beaver.  Tying  it  to  his  belt,  he  carried  it  home,  and, 
as  is  customary,  threw  it  down  at  the  door  of  the  lodge 
before  he  entered.  After  being  seated  a  short  time, 
he  told  his  wife  to  bring  in  his  belt  or  hunting  girdle. 
She  did  so,  and  returned  with  it,  with  nothing  tied  to 
it  but  a  stone. 

The  next  day,  the  dog,  finding  his  method  of  catch- 
ing beavers  had  been  discovered,  went  to  a  wood  at 
some  distance,  and  broke  oflf  a  charred  limb  from  a 
burned  tree,  which  instantly  became  a  bear.  The  giant, 
who  had  again  watched  him,  did  the  same,  and  carried 
a  bear  home ;  but  his  wife,  when  she  came  to  go  out  for 
it,  found  nothing  but  a  black  stick  tied  to  his  belt. 

The  giant's  wife  determined  she  would  go  to  her 
father,  and  tell  him  what  a  valuable  husband  she  had, 
who  furnished  her  lodge  with  abundance.  She  set  out 
while  her  husband  went  to  hunt.  As  soon  as  they  had 
departed,  the  dog  made  signs  to  his  mistress  to  sweat 
him  after  the  manner  of  the  Indians.     She  accordingly 

16* 


r 


^     ■' 


'1 


'i 


*'i 


ii 


186 


TAU-WAU-CHEE-IIEZKAW ;   OR, 


made  a  lodge  just  large  enough  for  him  to  creep  in. 
She  then  put  in  heated  stones,  and  poured  on  water. 
After  this  had  been  continued  the  usual  time,  he  came 
out  a  very  handsome  young  man,  but  had  not  the 
power  of  speech. 

Meantime,  the  elder  daughter  had  reached  her  father's, 
and  told  him  of  the  manner  in  whicb  her  sister  sup- 
ported a  dog,  treating  him  as  her  husband,  and  of  the 
singular  skill  this  animal  had  in  hunting.  The  old  man, 
suspecting  there  was  some  magic  in  it,  sent  a  deputa- 
tion of  young  men  and  women  to  ask  her  to  come  to 
him,  and  bring  her  dog  along.  When  this  deputation 
arrived,  they  were  surprised  to  find,  in  the  place  of  the 
dog,  so  fine, a  young  man.  They  both  accompanied 
the  messengers  to  the  father,  who  was  no  less  astonished. 
He  assembled  all  the  old  and  wise  men  of  the  nation  to 
see  the  exploits  which,  it  was  reported,  the  young  man 
could  perform.  The  giant  was  among  the  number.  He 
took  his  pipe  and  filled  it,  and  passed  it  to  the  Indians, 
to  see  if  anything  would  happen  when  they  smoked.  It 
was  passed  aroimd  to  the  dog,  who  made  a  sign  to  hand 
it  to  the  giant  first,  which  was  done,  but  nothing  affected. 
He  then  took  it  himself.  He  made  a  sign  to  them  to 
put  the  white  feather  upon  his  head.  This  was  done, 
and  immediately  he  regained  his  speech.  He  then  com- 
menced smoking,  and  behold  I  immense  flocks  of  white 
and  blue  pigeons  rushed  from  the  smoke. 

The  chief  demanded  of  him  his  history,  which  he 
faithfully  recounted.  When  it  was  finished,  the  chief 
ordered  that  the  giant  should  be  transformed  into  a 
dog,  and  turned  into  the  middle  of  the  vilhge,  where 
the  boys  should  pelt  him  to  death  with  clubs.  This 
sentence  was  executed. 

The  chief  then  ordered,  on  the  request  of  the  White 


THE  WHITE  FEATHER. 


187 


;p  in. 

kvater. 

camo 

>t  the 

tber's, 
r  sup- 
of  the 
dman, 
eputa- 
»me  to 
itation 

of  the 
panied 
nished. 
tion  to 
)g  man 
T.  He 
adians, 
cd.    It 

o  hand 

ected. 

lem  to 
done, 

n  cora- 
white 

lich  he 
e  chief 
into  a 
where 
This 


Feather,  that  all  the  young  men  should  employ  them- 
selves four  days  in  making  arrows,  lie  also  asked  for 
a  buffalo  robe.  This  robe  he  out  Into  thin  shreds,  and 
sowed  in  the  prairie.  At  the  end  of  the  four  days  he 
invited  them  to  gather  together  all  their  arrows,  and  ac- 
company him  to  a  buffalo  hunt.  They  found  that  these 
shreds  of  skin  had  grown  into  a  very  large  herd  of 
buffalo.  They  killed  as  many  as  they  pleased,  and 
enjoyed  a  grand  festival,  in  honor  of  his  triumph  over 
the  giants. 

Uaving  accomplished  their  labor,  the  White  Feather 
got  his  wife  to  ask  her  father's  permission  to  go  with 
him  on  a  visit  to  his  grandfather.  He  replied  to  this 
solicitation,  that  a  woman  must  follow  her  husband  into 
whatever  quarter  of  the  world  he  may  choose  to  go. 

Tiie  young  men  then  placed  the  white  feather  in  his 
froptlet,  and,  taking  his  war-club  in  his  hand,  led  the 
way  into  the  forest,  followed  by  his  faithful  wife. 


White 


'J  i 


•fit 


■1  I 


\  •  • 


PAUGUK, 


AND 


THE  MYTHOLOGICAL  INTERPRETATION  OF 

HIAWATHA. 


In  a  class  of  languages,  where  the  personification  of 
ideas,  or  sentiments,  frequently  compensates  for  the 
paucity  of  expression,  it  could  hardly  be  expected  that 
death  should  be  omitted.  The  soul,  or  spirit,  deemed 
to  be  an  invisible  essence,  is  denominated  Ochichaug  ; 
this  is  the  term  translators  employ  for  the  Holy  Ghost. 
There  is  believed  to  be  the  spirit  of  a  vital  and  per- 
sonal animus,  distinct  from  this,  to  which  they  apply 
the  term  Jeebi  or  Ghost.  Death,  or  the  mythos  of  the 
condition  of  the  human .  frame,  deprived  of  even  the 
semblance  of  blood,  and  muscle,  and  life,  is  represented 
by  the  word  Pauguk.  Pauguk  is  a  horrible  phantom 
of  human  bones,  without  muscular  tissue  or  voice,  the 
appearance  of  which  presages  speedy  dissolution.  Of 
all  the  myths  of  the  Indians,  this  is  the  most  gloomy  and 
fearful. 

^  In  strict  accordance,  however,  with  aboriginal  tastes 
and  notions,  Pauguk  is  represented  as  a  hunter.  He  is 
armed  with  a  bow  and  arrows,  or  a  pug-gamagan,  or 
war-club.  Instead  of  objects  of  the  chase,  men,  women, 
and  children  are  substituted  us  the  objects  of  pursuit. 
To  see  him  is  indicative  of  death.      Some  accounts 


PAUGUK;    INTERPRET^S''     \N  OF  HIAWATHA.  189 


OF 


ation  of 
for  the 
ted  that 
deemed 
ichaug ; 
f  Ghost. 
,nd  per- 
sy  apply 
)S  of  the 
IV en  the 
[resented 

ihantom 
|oice,  the 

m.     Of 
lomy  and 

lal  tastes 
lie  is 
kagan,  or 
I,  women, 
pursuit, 
laccounts 


^VJ 


represent  him  as  covered  vviih  a  thin  transparent  skin, 
with  the  sockets  of  his  eyes  filled  with  balls  of  fire. 

Pauguk  never  speaks.  Unlike  the  Jeebi  or  ghost, 
his  limbs  never  assume  the  rotundity  of  life.  Neither 
is  he  confounded  in  form  with  the  numerous  class  of 
Monedoes,  or  of  demons.  He  does  not  possess  the 
power  of  metamorphosis,  or  of  transforming  himself 
into  the  shapes  of  animals.  Unvaried  in  repulsive- 
ness,  he  is  ever  an  olyect  of  fear ;  but  unlike  every 
other  kind  or  class  of  creation  of  the  Indian  mind, 
Pauguk  never  disguises  himself,  or  aflfects  the  cunning 
of  concealment — never  effects  to  be  what  he  is  not. 

Manabozho  alone  had  power  to  invoke  him  unharmed. 
When  he  had  expended  all  his  arts  to  overcome 
Paup-Puk-Keewiss,  who  could  at  will  transform  him- 
self, directly  or  indirectly,  into  any  class  or  species  of 
the  animal  creation,  going  often,  as  he  did,  as  a  jeebi, 
from  one  carcass  into  another,  at  last,  at  the  final 
conflict  at  the  rock,  he  dispatched  him  with  the  real 
power  of  death,  after  summoning  the  elements  of  thun- 
der and  lightning  to  his  aid.  And  when  thus  de- 
prived of  all  sublunary  power,  the  enraged  Great  Hare, 
Manito  (such  seems  the  meaning  of  Manabozho), 
changed  the  dead  carcass  of  his  enemy  into  the  great 
camew,  or  war  eagle.  Nothing  had  given  Manabozho 
half  the  trouble  and  vexation  of  the  flighty,  defying, 
changeable  and  mischievous  Paup-Puk-Keewiss,  who 
eluded  him  by  jumping  from  one  end  of  the  continent  to 
the  other.  He  had  killed  the  great  power  of  evil  in  the 
prince  of  serpents,  who  had  destroyed  Chebizbos  his 
grnndson — he  had  survived  the  flood  produced  by  the 
great  Serpent,  and  overcome,  in  combat,  the  mysterious 
power  held  by  the  Pearl,  or  sea  shell  Feather,  and  the 
Mishemokwa,  or  great  Bear  with  the  wampum  necklace, 


*  •! 


n 


i 


ii    1 


'■        k 


I    I   t- 


m 


'I 


j'l 


,  h 


190 


pauguk;  and 


hut  Paup-Puk-Kccwiss  put  him  to  the  exercise  of  his 
reserved  powers  of  death  and  annihilation.  And  it  is 
by  this  act  that  we  perceive  that  Hiawatha,  or  Mana- 
bozho,  was  a  divinity.  Manabozho  had  been  a  hunter, 
a  fisherman,  a  warrior,  a  suppliant,  a  poor  man,  a 
starveling,  a  laup^hing  stock  and  a  mere  beggar ;  he 
now  shows  himself  a  god,  and  as  such  we  must  regard 
him  as  thtf  prime  Indian  myth. 

This  myth,  the  more  it  is  examined,  the  more  exten- 
sive does  it  appear  to  be  incorporated  in  some  shape  in 
the  Indian  mythology.  If  interpreted  agreeably  to  the 
metaphysical  symbols  of  the  old  world,  it  would  appear 
to  be  distilled  from  the  same  oriental  symbolical  cruci- 
ble, which  produced  an  Osiris  and  a  Typhon — for  the 
American  Typhon  is  represented  by  the  Mishikinabik, 
or  serpent,  and  the  American  Osiris  by  a  Hiawatha, 
Manabozho,  Micabo,  or  great  Hare-God,  or  Ghost. 

This  myth,  as  it  is  recognized  under  the  name  of 
Hiawatha  by  the  Iroquois,  is  without  the  misadventures 
over  which,  in  the  person  of  Manabozho,  the  Algon- 
quins  laugh  so  heartily,  and  the  particular  recitals  of 
which,  as  given  in  prior  pages,  afford  so  much  amuse- 
ment to  their  lodge  circles.  According  to  the  Iroquois 
version,  Tarenyawagon  was  deputed  by  the  Master  of 
Life,  who  is  also  called  the  Holder  of  Heaven,  to 
the  earth,  the  better  to  prepare  it  for  the  residence  of 
man,  and  to  teach  the  tribes  the  knowledge  necessary 
to  their  condition,  as  well  as  to  rid  the  land  of 
giants  and  monsters.  Having  accomplished  this  be- 
nevolent labor,  he  laid  aside  his  heavenly  character 
and  name,  assuming  that  of  Hiawatha ;  took  a  wife, 
and  settled  in  a  beautiful  part  of  the  country.  Hia- 
watha having  set  himself  down  to  live  as  one  of  them, 
it  was  his  care  to  hold  up,  at  all  times,  the  best  exam- 


MYTHOLOGICAL  INTERPUETATION  OF  HIAWATHA.       191 


of  his 
id  it  is 
Mana- 
mntcr, 
man,  a 
ar ;  lie 
regard 

extcn- 
hape  in 
y  to  the 
[  appear 
al  cruci- 
-for  the 
kinabik, 
iawatha, 
}host. 
name  of 
ventures 
Algon- 
ecitals  of 
\  arause- 
Iroquois 
Vlaster  of 
eaven,  to 
idence  of 
necessary 
land   of 
this  be- 
character 
)k  a  wife, 
ry.     llia- 
of  them, 
est  exam- 


ples of  prudential  wisdom.  All  things,  hard  or  won- 
drous, were  possible  for  him  to  do,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
hero  of  the  Algonquin  legend,  and  he  had,  like  him,  a 
magic  canoe  to  sail  up  and  down  the  waters  wherever 
he  wished. 

Hiawatha,  after  he  had  performed  the  higher  func- 
tions appertaining  to  his  character,  settled  down  in  the 
Iroquois  country,  and  was  universally  regarded  as  a  sage. 
He  instructed  the  tribes  how  to  repel  savage  invaders, 
who  were  in  the  habit  of  scourging  the  country,  and 
was  ever  ready  to  give  them  wise  counsels.  The  chief 
things  of  these  good  counsels  to  the  tribes  were  to  at- 
tend to  their  proper  vocation,  as  hunters  and  fishermen, 
to  cultivate  corn,  and  to  cease  dissensions  and  bickerings 
among  themselves.  lie  finally  instructed  them  to  form  a 
general  league  and  confederacy  against  their  common 
enemies.  These  maxims  were  enforced  at  a  general 
council  of  the  Iroquois  tribe,  held  at  Onondaga,  which 
place  became  the  seat  of  their  council  fire,  and  first 
government.  This  normal  council  of  Iroquois  sages 
resulted  in  placing  the  tribes  in  their  assembled,  not 
tribal  capacity,  under  the  care  of  a  moderator,  or  chief 
magistrate  of  the  assembled  cantons,  called  Atatarho.* 

Tradition  recites  many  particulars  of  the  acts  of 
Hiawatha.  It  is  preserved  in  their  recitals,  that  after 
his  mission  was  virtually  ended,  or,  rather,  drawing  to 
a  close,  how  he  proceeded,  in  great  state,  to  the  coun- 
cil, in  his  magic  canoe,  taking  with  him  his  favorite 
daughter.  With  her  he  landed  on  the  shore  of  the 
lake  of  Onondaga,  and  was  proceeding  to  the  elevated- 

*  Casio  tolls  us  tliere  wero  thirti'on  of  those  magistratos 
before  America  was  discovered,  litre  mythology  takes  thy 
shape  of  historical  tradition. 


V    \ 


192 


pauguk;  and 


grounds  appointed  for  the  council,  when  a  remarkable 
phenomenon  appeared  in  the  heavens,  which  seemed, 
in  its  symbolical  import,  to  say  to  Hiawatha :  "  Thy 
work  is  near  its  close."  A  white  bird,  the  bird  of 
Heaven,  appeared  to  come  as  a  special  messenger 
to  him  and  to  his  daughter,  appearing  as  a  small  speck 
high  in  the  higher  atmosphere.  As  it  descended  and 
revealed  its  character,  its  flight  was  attended  with  the 
greatest  swiftness  and  force,  and  with  no  little  of  the 
impetuosity  of  a  stroke  of  lightning.  To  the  dismay 
of  all,  it  struck  the  daughter  of  Hiawatha  with  such 
force  as  to  drive  her  remains  into  the  earth,  completely 
annihilating  her.  The  bird  itself  was  annihilated  in 
annihilating  Hiawatha's  daughter.  All  that  remained 
of  it  were  its  scattered  white  plumes,  purely  white  as 
silver  clouds,  and  these  plumes  the  warriors  eagerly 
gathered  as  the  chief  tokens,  to  be  worn  on  their  heads 
as  symbols  of  their  bravery  in  war — a  custom  maintained 
to  this  day.  Hiawatha  stood  aghast.  He  did  not  know 
how  to  interpret  the  terrible  token.  He  deeply  mourned 
his  daughter's  fate ;  for  a  long  time  he  was  inconsolable, 
and  sat  with  his  head  down.  But,  in  the  end,  and  by  per- 
suasion, he  roused  himself  from  his  reverie.  His  thoughts 
revolved  on  his  original  mission  to  the  Indian  tribes. 
The  Great  Spirit  perhaps  tells  me,  he  said  to  himself, 
that  my  work  here  below  is  finished,  and  I  must  return 
to  him.  For  a  while,  he  had  not  heeded  the  invitations 
to  attend  the  largely  gathered  council  which  waited  for 
him,  but  as  soon  as  his  grief  would  enable  him  to  at- 
tend, he  roused  himself  for  the  task.  After  tasting  food, 
he  assumed  his  usual  manly  dignity  of  character,  and 
assumed  the  oritorical  attitude.  Waiting  till  the  other 
speakers  had  finished,  he  addressed  his  last  counsels 
to  the  listening  tribes.     By  his  wisdom  and  eloquent 


MYTUOLOaiCAL  INTERPRETATION  OF  HIAWATHA.       193 

appeal,  he  entranced  them.  By  this  valedictory  ad- 
dress, replete  with  political  wisdom,  he  closed  his 
career.  Having  done  this,  he  announced  the  termina- 
tion of  his  mission ;  then,  entering  his  magic  canoe,  he 
began  to  rise  in  the  air— sweet  strains  of  music  were 
heard  to  arise  as  he  mounted,  and  these  could  be  heard 
till  he  was  carried  up  beyond  human  sight. 


n 


m 


lENA,  THE  WANDERER, 


CB 


r.ii 


MAGIC  BUNDLE. 


A  CHIPPEWA  ALLEGORY. 


II     :.i 


There  was  once  a  poor  man  called  lena,*  who  was  in 
the  habit  of  wandering  about  from  place  to  place, 
forlorn,  without  relations  and  almost  helpless.  One 
day,  as  he  went  on  a  hunting  excursion,  he  hung  up  his 
bundle  on  the  branch  of  a  tree,  to  relieve  himself  from 
the  burden  of  carrying  it,  and  then  went  in  quest  of 
game.  On  returning  to  the  spot  in  the  evening,  he 
was  surprised  to  find  a  small  but  neat  lodge  built  in  the 
place  where  he  had  left  his  bundle ;  and  on  looking  in, 
he  beheld  a  beautiful  female  sitting  in  the  lodge,  with 
his  blanket  lying  beside  her.  During  the  day  he  had 
been  fortunate  in  killing  a  deer,  which  he  had  laid  down 
at  the  lodge  door.  But,  to  his  surprise,  the  woman,  in 
her  attempt  to  bring  it  in,  broke  both  her  legs.  He 
looked  at  her  with  astonishment,  and  thought  to  himself, 
"I  supposed  I  was  blessed,  but  I  find  my  mistake. 
Gweengweeshee,"f  said  he,  "I  will  leave  my  game  with 
you,  that  you  may  feast  on  it." 

*  From  lonawdizzi,  a  wanderer, 
t  The  night-hawk. 


■I* 


lENA,  THE  wanderer;    OR,  MAGIC  BUNDLE.        195 


10  was  in 
o   place, 
s.     One 
g  up  his 
elf  from 
quest  of 
ning,  he 
It  in  the 
Dking  in, 
ge,  with 
V  he  had 
lid  down 
oraan,  in 
^s.     He 
himself, 
mistake, 
ime  with 


lie  then  took  up  his  bundle  and  departed.  After 
walking  some  time  he  came  to  another  tree,  on  which 
he  suspended  his  bundle  as  before,  and  went  in  search 
of  game.  Success  again  rewarded  his  efforts,  and  he 
returned  bringing  a  deer,  but  found,  as  before,  that  a 
lodge  had  sprung  up  in  the  place  where  he  had  sus- 
pended his  bundle.  He  looked  in,  and  saw,  as  before, 
a  beautiful  female  sitting  alone,  with  his  bundle  by  her 
side.  She  arose,  and  came  out  to  bring  in  the  deer, 
which  he  had  deposited  at  the  door,  and  he  immediately 
went  into  the  lodge  and  sat  by  the  fire,  as  he  felt 
fatigued  with  the  day's  labors.  Wondering,  at  last, 
at  the  delay  of  the  woman,  he  arose,  and  peeping 
through  the  door  of  the  lodge,  beheld  her  eating  all  the 
fat  of  the  deer.  He  exclaimed,  "I  thought  I  was 
blessed,  but  I  find  I  am  mistaken."  Then  addressing 
the  woman,  "Poor  Wabizhas,"*  said  he,  "feast  on  the 
game  that  I  have  brought."  He  again  took  up  his 
bundle  and  departed,  and  as  usual,  hung  it  up  on  the 
branch  of  a  tree,  and  wandered  off  in  quest  of  game. 
In  the  evening  he  returned  with  his  customary  good 
luck,  bringing  in  a  fine  deer,  and  again  fouad  a  lodge 
occupying  the  place  of  his  bundle.  He  gazed  through 
an  aperture  in  the  side  of  the  lodge,  and  saw  a  beautiful 
woman  sitting  alone,  with  a  bundle  by  her  side.  As 
soon  as  he  entered  the  lodge,  she  arose  with  alacrity, 
brought  in  the  carcass,  cut  it  up,  and  hung  up  the  meat 
to  dry.  After  this,  she  prepared  a  portion  of  it  for  the 
supper  of  the  weary  hunter.  The  man  thought  to  him- 
self, "Now  I  am  certainly  blessed."  He  continued  his 
practice  of  hunting  every  day,  and  the  woman,  on  his 
return,  always  readily  took  cave  of  the  meat,  and  pre- 


*  A  marten. 


1 

''ill 

i  ' 

%■<■' 

i 


'i 


m 

1^ 


196 


lENA,  THE  WANDERER;    OR, 


pared  his  meals  for  him.  One  thing,  however,  aston- 
ished him ;  he  had  never,  as  yet,  seen  her  eat  anything, 
and  kindly  said  to  her,  "Why  do  you  not  eat?"  She 
replied,  "  I  have  food  of  my  own,  which  I  eat." 

On  the  fourth  day  he  brought  home  with  him  a  b  inch 
of  uzadi*  as  a  cane,  which  he  placed,  with  his  game, 
at  the  door  of  the  lodge.  His  wife,  as  usual,  went  out 
to  prepare  and  bring  in  the  meat.  While  thus  engaged, 
he  heard  her  laughing  to  herself,  and  saying,  "  This  is 
very  acceptable."  The  man,  in  peeping  out  to  see  the 
cause  of  her  joy,  saw  her,  with  astonishment,  eating  the 
bark  of  the  poplar  cane  in  the  same  manner  that  beavers 
gnaw.  lie  then  exclaimed,  "Ho,  ho  I  Ho,  ho  1  this  is 
Amik  ;""|"  and  ever  afterward  he  was  careful  at  evening 
to  bring  in  a  bough  of  the  poplar  or  the  red  willow, 
when  she  would  exclaim,  "  Oh,  this  is  very  acceptable  ; 
this  is  a  change,  for  one  gets  tired  eating  white  fish 
always  (meaning  the  poplar) ;  but  the  carp  (meaning 
the  red  willow)  is  a  pleasant  change." 

On  the  whole,  lena  was  much  pleased  with  his  wife 
for  her  neatness  and  attention  to  the  things  in  the 
lodge,  and  he  lived  a  contented  and  happy  man.  Being 
industrious,  she  made  him  beautiful  bags  from  the  bark 
of  trees,  and  dressed  the  skins  of  the  animals  he  killed 
in  the  most  skilful  manner.  When  spring  opened,  they 
found  themselves  blessed  with  two  children,  one  of  them 
resembling  the  father  and  the  other  the  mother.  One 
day  the  father  made  a  bow  and  arrows  for  the  child  that 
resembled  him,  who  was  a  son,  saying,  "My  son,  yon 
will  use  these  arrows  to  shoot  at  the  little  beavers  when 
they  begin  to  swim  about  the  rivers."    The  mother,  as 

*  The  common  poplar,  or  P.  tremuloides. 
t  The  beaver. 


Ml 


MAGIC  BUNDLE. 


197 


soon  as  she  heard  this,  was  highly  displeased;  and 
taking  her  children,  unknown  to  her  husband,  left  the 
lodge  in  the  night.  A  small  river  ran  near  the  lodge, 
which  the  woman  approached  with  her  children.  She 
built  a  dam  across  the  stream,  erected  a  lodge  of  earth, 
and  lived  after  the  manner  of  the  beavers. 

When  the  hunter  awoke,  he  found  himself  alone  in 
his  lodge,  and  his  wife  and  children  absent.  He  imme- 
diately made  diligent  search  after  them,  and  at  last  dis- 
covered their  retreat  on  the  river.  He  approached  the 
place  of  their  habitation,  and  throwing  himself  prostrate 
on  the  top  of  the  lodge,  exclaimed,  "Shingisshenaun 
tshee  neeboyaun.  "*  The  woman  allowed  the  children 
to  go  close  to  their  father,  but  not  to  touch  him ;  for,  as 
soon  as  they  came  very  near,  she  would  draw  them 
away  again,  and  in  this  manner  she  continued  to  tor- 
ment him  a  long  time.  The  husband  lay  in  this  situa- 
tion until  he  was  almost  starved,  when  a  young  female 
approached  him,  and  thus  accosted  him  :  "  Look  here  ; 
why  are  you  keeping  yourself  in  misery,  and  thus  starv- 
ing yourself?  Eat  this,"  reaching  him  a  little  mokuk 
containing  fresh  raspberries  which  she  had  just  gath- 
ered. As  soon  as  the  beaveress,  his  former  wife,  beheld 
this,  she  began  to  abuse  the  young  woman,  and  said  to 
her,  "Why  do  you  wish  to  show  any  kindness  to  that 
animal  that  has  but  two  legs?  you  will  soon  repent  it." 
She  also  made  sport  of  the  young  woman,  saying, 
"  Look  at  her;  she  has  a  long  nose,  and  she  is  just  like 
a  bear."  The  young  woman,  who  was  all  the  time  a 
bear  in  disguise,  hearing  herself  thus  reproached,  broke- 
down  the  dam  of  the  beaver,  let  the  water  run  out,  aiid 
hcarly  killed  the  beaver  herself.     Then  turning  to  the 


■*Hero  I  will  lie  until  I  die. 
17* 


I  ! 


w 


Hi 


198 


lENA,  THE  WANDERER;    OR, 


man,  she  thus  addressed  him  :  "  Follow  me  ;  I  will  be 
kind  to  you.  Follow  mo  closely.  You  must  be  cou- 
rageous, for  there  are  three  persons  who  are  desirous  of 
marrying  me,  and  will  oppose  you.  Be  careful  of  your- 
self. Follow  me  nimbly,  and,  just  as  we  approach  the 
lodge,  put  your  feet  in  the  prints  of  mine,  for  I  have 
eight  sisters  who  will  do  their  utmost  to  divert  your 
attention  and  make  you  lose  the  way.  Look  neither 
to  the  right  nor  the  left,  but  enter  the  lodge  just  as  I 
do,  and  take  your  seat  where  I  do."  As  they  proceeded 
they  came  in  sight  of  a  large  lodge,  when  he  did  as  he 
had  been  directed,  stepping  in  her  tracks.  As  they 
entered  the  lodge  the  eight  sisters  clamorously  ad- 
dressed him.  "  Oh,  Ogidahkumigo*  has  lost  his  way," 
and  each  one  invited  him  to  take  his  seat  with  her, 
desiring  to  draw  him  from  their  sister.  The  old  people 
also  addressed  him  as  he  entered,  and  said,  "  Oh,  make 
room  for  our  son-in-law."  The  man,  however,  took  his 
seat  by  the  side  of  his  protectress,  and  was  not  farther 
importuned. 

As  they  sat  in  the  lodge,  a  great  rushing  of  waters, 
as  of  a  swollen  river,  came  through  the  centre  of  it, 
which  also  brought  in  its  course  a  large  stone,  and  left 
it  before  the  man.  When  the  water  subsided,  a  large 
white  bear  came  in,  and  taking  up  the  stone,  bit  it,  and 
scratched  it  with  his  paws,  saying,  "This  is  the  manner 
in  which  I  would  handle  Ogidahkumigo  if  I  was  jealous." 
A  yellow  bear  also  entered  the  lodge  and  did  the  same. 
A  black  bear  followed  and  did  the  same.  At  length 
the  man  took  up  his  bow  and  arrows,  and  prepared  to 
shoot  at  the  stone,  saying,  "  This  is  the  way  I  would 

*  Tliis  term  means  a  man  that  lives  on  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  as  contradistinguished  from  beings  living  underground. 


.3 

I 


MAGIC  BUNDLE. 


199 


treat  Opanamekumigo*  if  I  was  jealous."  lie  then 
drew  n\)  his  bow  and  drove  his  arrow  into  llio  stone. 
Seeing  this,  the  bears  turned  around,  and  with  their 
eyes  fixed  on  him,  stepped  backward  and  left  tiie  lodge, 
which  highly  delighted  the  woman.  She  exulted  to 
think  that  her  husband  had  conquered  them. 

Finally,  one  of  the  old  folks  made  a  cry,  and  said, 
"  Come,  come  I  there  must  be  a  gathering  of  provisions 
for  the  winter."  So  they  all  took  their  cossoes,  or  bark 
dishes,  and  departed  to  gather  acorns  for  the  winter. 
As  they  departed,  the  old  man  said  to  his  daughter, 
"Tell  Ogidahkumigo  to  go  to  the  place  where  your 
sisters  have  gone  and  let  him  select  one  of  them,  so 
that,  through  her  aid,  he  may  have  some  food  for  him- 
self during  the  winter;  but  be  sure  to  caution  him  to 
be  very  careful,  when  he  is  taking  the  skin  from  the 
animal,  that  he  does  not  cut  the  flesh."  No  sooner  had 
the  man  heard  this  message,  than  he  selected  one  of  his 
sisters-in-law ;  and  when  he  was  taking  the  skin  from 
her,  for  she  was  all  the  while  an  enchanted  female  bear, 
although  careful,  he  cut  her  a  little  upon  one  of  her 
arms,  when  she  jumped  up,  assumed  her  natural  form, 
and  ran  home.  The  man  also  went  home,  and  found 
her  with  her  arm  bound  up,  and  quite  unwell. 

A  second  cry  was  then  made  by  the  master  of  the 
lodge:  "Come  comel  seek  for  winter  quarters;"  and 
they  all  got  ready  to  separate  for  the  season.  By  this 
time  the  man  had  two  children,  one  resembling  himself 
and  the  other  his  wife.  When  the  cry  was  made,  the 
little  boy  who  resembled  his  father  was  in  such  a  hurry 
in  putting  on  his  moccasons,  that  he  misplaced  them, 
putting  the  moccason  of  the  right  foot  upon  the  left. 


*  He  who  lives  in  the  city  under  grouucl. 


I     i 


hB         i 


I 


I     t 


:  w 


200 


lENA,  THE  wanderer;   OR, 


And  this  is  the  reason  why  the  foot  of  the  bear  is 
turned  in. 

They  proceeded  to  seek  their  winter  quarters,  the 
wife  going  before  to  point  the  way.  She  always  select- 
ed the  thickest  part  of  the  forest,  where  the  child  re- 
sembling the  father  found  it  difficult  to  get  along ;  and 
he  never  failed  to  cry  out  and  complain.  lena  then 
went  in  advance,  and  sought  the  open  plain,  whereupon 
the  child  resembling  the  mother  would  cry  out  and 
complain,  because  she  disliked  an  open  path.  As  they 
were  encamping,  the  woman  said  to  her  husband,  "  Go 
and  break  branches  for  the  lodge  for  the  night."  He 
did  so ;  bat  when  she  looked  at  the  manner  in  which 
her  husband  broke  the  branches,  she  was  very  much 
offended,  for  he  broke  them  upward  instead  of  down- 
ward. "It  is  not  only  very  awkward,"  said  she,  "but 
we  will  be  found  out;  for  the  Ogidahkuraigoes*  will 
see  where  we  have  passed  by  the  branches  we  have 
broken  :"  to  avoid  this,  they  agreed  to  change  their 
route,  and  were  finally  well  established  in  their  winter 
quarters.  The  wife  had  sufficient  food  for  her  child, 
and  would  now  and  then  give  the  dry  berries  she  had 
gathered  in  the  summer  to  her  husband. 

One  day,  as  spring  drew  on,  she  said  to  her  husband, 
"I  must  boil  you  some  meat,"  meaning  her  own  paws, 
which  bears  suck  in  the  month  of  April.  She  had  all 
along  told  him,  during  the  winter,  that  she  meant  to 
resume  her  real  shai)e  of  a  female  bear,  and  to  give 
herself  up  to  the  Ogiduhkumigoes,  to  be  killed  by  them, 
and  that  the  time  of  their  coming  was  near  at  hand. 
It  came  to  pass,  soon  afterward,  that  a  hunter  dis- 
covered her  retreat.     She  told  her  husband  to  movo 

*  Poople  who  live  above  ground. 


f 

i 


#* 


MAGIC  BUNDLE^ 


201 


aside,  "for,"  she  added,  "I  am  now  giving  myself  up." 
The  hunter  fired  and  killed  her. 

lena  then  came  out  from  his  hiding-place,  and  went 
home  with  the  hunter.  As  they  went,  he  instructed 
him  what  he  must  hereafter  do  when  he  killed  bears. 
"You  must,"  said  he,  "never  cut  the  flesh  in  taking 
off  the  skin,  nor  hang  up  the  feet  with  the  flesh  when 
drying  it.  But  you  must  take  the  head  and  feet,  and 
decorate  them  handsomely,  and  place  tobacco  on  the 
head,  for  these  animals  are  very  fond  of  this  article,  and 
ou  i\\Q  fourth  day  they  come  to  life  again." 


MISIIOSIIA, 


OB 


THE  MAGICIAN  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


!  Hi 


•I' 


I   I'' 


In  an  early  age  of  the  world,  when  there  were  fewer 
inhabitants  than  there  now  are,  there  lived  an  Indian, 
in  a  remote  place,  who  had  a  wife  and  two  children. 
They  seldom  saw  any  one  out  of  the  circle  of  their  own 
lodge.  Animals  were  abundant  in  so  secluded  a  situa- 
tion, and  the  man  found  no  difficulty  in  supplying  his 
family  with  food. 

In  this  way  they  lived  in  peace  and  happiness,  which 
might  have  continued  if  the  hunter  had  not  found  cause 
to  suspect  his  wife.  She  secretly  cherished  an  attach- 
ment for  a  young  man  whom  she  accidentally  met  one 
day  in  the  woods.  She  even  planned  the  death  of  her 
husband  for  his  sake,  for  she  knew  if  she  did  not  kill 
her  husband,  her  husband,  the  moment  he  detected  her 
crime,  would  kill  her. 

The  husband,  however,  eluded  her  project  by  his 
readiness  and  decision.  He  narrowly  watchcrd  her  move- 
ments. One  day  he  secretly  followed  her  footsteps  into 
the  forest,  and  having  concealed  himself  behind  a  tree, 
he  soon  beheld  a  tall  young  man  approach  and  lead 
away  his  wife.  Ilis  arrows  were  in  his  hands,  but  he 
did  not  use  them,  lie  thought  he  would  kill  her  the 
moment  she  returned. 


misiiosiia;  or,  the  macjician  of  lake  slterior.    203 


Meantime,  he  went  home  and  sat  down  to  think.  At 
last  he  came  to  the  determination  of  qnitting  her  for- 
ever, thinking  that  her  own  conscience  would  punish 
her  sufficiently,  and  relying  on  her  maternal  feelings  to 
take  care  of  the  two  children,  who  were  boys,  he  imme- 
diately took  up  his  arms  ind  departed. 

When  the  wife  returned  she  was  disappointed  in  not 
finding  her  husband,  for  she  had  now  concerted  her 
plan,  and  intended  to  have  dispatched  him.  She  waited 
several  days,  thinking  he  might  have  been  led  away  by 
the  chase,  but  finding  he  did  not  return,  she  suspected 
the  true  cause.  Leaving  her  two  children  in  the  lodge, 
she  told  them  she  was  going  a  short  distance  and  would 
return.  She  then  fled  to  her  paramour  and  came  back 
no  more. 

The  children,  thus  abandoned,  soon  made  way  with 
the  food  left  in  the  lodge,  and  were  compelled  to  quit 
it  in  search  of  more.  The  eldest  boy,  who  was  of  an 
intrepid  temper,  was  strongly  attached  to  his  brother, 
frequently  carrying  him  when  he  became  weary,  and 
gathering  all  the  wild  fruit  he  saw.  They  wandered 
deeper  and  deeper  into  the  forest,  losing  all  traces  of 
their  former  habitation,  until  they  were  completely  lost 
in  its  mazes. 

The  eldest  boy  had  a  knife,  with  which  he  made  a 
bow  and  arrows,  and  was  thus  enabled  to  kill  a  few 
birds  for  himself  and  l)rothcr.  In  this  manner  they 
continued  to  pass  on,  from  one  piece  of  forest  to  an- 
other, not  knowing  whither  they  were  going.  At  length 
they  saw  an  opening  through  the  woods,  and  were 
shortly  afterward  delighted  to  find  themselves  on  the 
borders  of  a  large  lake.  Here  the  elder  l)rother  busied 
himself  in  picking  the  seed  pods  of  tlie  wild  rose,  which 
he  reserved  as  food.     In  the  meantime,  the  younger 


1 


jiiiifn 

Prl 

li     ' ' 

r 

1 

1  ■i'' 

'i 

li     !i 

'4\ 


' 


iliili 


204 


misiiosiia;  or, 


brother  amused  himself  by  shooting  arrows  in  the  sand, 
one  of  which  happened  to  fall  into  the  lake.  Panio- 
WUN,*  the  elder  brother,  not  willing  to  lose  the  arrow, 
waded  in  the  water  to  reach  it.  Just  as  he  was  about 
to  grasp  the  arrow,  a  canoe  passed  up  to  him  with 
great  rapidity.  An  old  man,  sitting  in  the  centre, 
seized  the  affrighted  youth  and  placed  him  in  the  canoe. 
In  vain  the  boy  addressed  him — "  My  grandfather  (a 
term  of  respect  for  old  people),  pray  take  my  little  bro- 
ther also.  Alone,  I  cannot  go  with  you ;  he  will  starve 
if  I  leave  him."  Mishosha  (the  old  man)  only  laughed 
at  him.  Then  uttering  the  charm,  Chemaun  Poll, 
and  giving  his  canoe  a  slap,  it  glided  through  the  water 
with  inconceivable  swiftness.  In  a  few  moments  they 
reached  the  habitation  of  the  magician,  standing  on  an 
island  in  the  centre  of  the  lake.  Here  he  lived  with 
his  two  daughters,  who  managed  the  affairs  of  his  house- 
hold. Leading  the  young  man  up  to  the  lodge,  he  ad- 
dressed his  eldest  daughter.  "Here,"  said  he,  "my 
daughter,  I  have  brought  a  young  man  to  be  your  hus- 
band." Husbandl  thought  the  young  woman ;  rather 
another  victim  of  your  bad  arts,  and  your  insatiate  en- 
mity to  the  human  race.  But  she  made  no  reply,  seem- 
ing thereby  to  acquiesce  in  her  father's  will. 

The  young  man  thought  he  saw  surprise  depicted  in 
the  eyes  of  the  daughter,  during  the  scene  of  this  in- 
troduction, and  determined  to  watch  events  narrowly. 
In  the  evening  he  overheard  the  two  daughters  in  con- 
versation. "  There,"  said  the  eldest  daughter,  "I  told 
you  he  would  not  be  satisfied  with  his  last  sacrifice.  He 
has  brought  another  victim,  under  the  pretence  of  pro- 
viding me  a  husband.      Husband,  indeed  I  the  poor 


Tho  eud  wing  feather. 


THE  MAGICIAN  OF  LAKE  SUrERIOR. 


205 


sand, 

ANIG- 

irrow, 
about 
I  with 
lentre, 
canoe, 
lier  (a 
le  bro- 
starve 
luglied 
Poll, 
e  water 
ts  they 
r  on  an 
ed  with 
5  house- 
he  ad- 
e,  "my 
ur  hus- 
rather 
iate  en- 
seem- 

ictcd  in 
this  in- 
Irrowly. 
lin  con- 
Itold 
3.  He 
lof  pro- 
le poor 


youth  will  be  in  some  horrible  predicament  before  ano- 
ther sun  has  set.  When  shall  we  be  spared  the  scenes 
of  vice  and  wickedness  which  are  daily  taking  place 
before  our  eyes?" 

Panigwun  took  the  first  opportunity  of  acquainting 
the  daughters  how  he  had  been  carried  off,  and  been 
compelled  to  leave  his  little  brother  on  the  shore.  They 
told  him  to  wait  until  their  father  was  asleep,  then  to 
get  up  and  take  his  canoe,  and  using  the  charm  he  had 
obtained,  it  would  carry  him  quickly  to  his  brother. 
That  he  could  carry  him  food,  prepare  a  lodge  for  him, 
and  be  back  before  daybreak.  lie  did,  in  every  respect, 
as  he  had  been  directed — the  canoe  obeyed  the  charm, 
and  carried  him  safely  over,  and  after  providing  for  the 
subsistence  of  his  brother,  he  told  hini  that  in  a  short  time 
he  should  come  for  him.  Then  returning  to  the  enchan- 
ted island,  he  resumed  his  place  in  the  lodge,  before 
the  magician  awoke.  Once,  during  the  night,  Mishosha 
awoke,  and  not  seeing  his  destined  son-in-law,  asked 
his  daughter  what  had  become  of  him.  She  replied 
that  he  had  merely  stepped  out,  and  would  be  back 
soon.  This  satisfied  him.  In  the  morning,  finding 
the  young  man  in  the  lodge,  his  suspicions  were  com- 
pletely lulled.  "I  see,  my  daughter,"  said  he,  "you 
have  told  the  truth." 

As  soon  as  the  sun  arose,  Mishosha  thus  addressed 
the  young  man.  "  Come,  my  son,  I  have  a  mind  to 
gather  gulls'  eggs.  I  know  an  island  where  there  nre 
great  quantities,  and  I  wish  your  aid  in  getting  them." 
The  young  man  saw  no  reasonable  excuse;  and  getting 
into  the  canoe,  the  magician  gave  it  a  slap,  and  utter- 
ing a  command,  they  wore  in  an  instant  at  the  island. 
They  found  the  shores  strown  with  gulls'  eggs,  and  tiie 
island  full  of  birds  of  this  species.  "Go,  my  son,"  said 
18 


i  f 


f 


206 


MISIIOSHA;   OR, 


'li      i 


the  old  man,  "and  gather  the  eggs,  while  I  remain  in 
the  ca^ioi." 

But  Panigvvun  had  no  sooner  got  ashore,  than  Mish- 
osha  pushed  his  canoe  a  little  from  the  land,  and  ex- 
claimed— "  Listen,  ye  gulls  !  you  have  long  expected 
an  offering  from  me.  I  now  give  you  a  victim.  Fly 
down  and  devour  him."  Then  striking  his  canoe,  he 
left  the  young  man  to  his  fate. 

The  birds  immediately  came  in  clouds  around  their 
victim,  darkening  the  air  with  their  numbers.  But  the 
youth  seizing  the  first  that  came  near  him,  and  drawing 
his  knife,  cut  off  its  head.  Jle  immediately  skinned  the 
bird  and  hung  the  feathers  as  a  trophy  on  his  breast. 
"Thus,"  he  exclaimed,  "will  I  treat  every  one  of  you 
who  approaches  me.  Forbear,  therefore,  and  listen  to 
my  words.  It  is  not  for  you  to  eat  human  flesh.  You 
have  been  given  by  the  Great  Spirit  as  food  for  man. 
Neither  is  it  in  the  power  of  that  old  magician  to  do 
you  any  good.  Take  me  on  your  backs  and  carry  me 
to  his  lodge,  and  you  shall  see  that  I  am  not  ungrateful." 
The  gulls  obeyed  ;  collecting  in  a  cloud  for  him  to  rest 
upon,  and  quickly  flew  to  the  lodge,  where  they  arrived 
before  the  magician.  The  daughters  were  sur[)rised  at 
his  return,  but  Mishosha,  on  entering  the  lodge,  con- 
ducted himself  as  if  nothing  extraordinary  had  taken 
I)lace. 

The  next  day  he  again  addressed  the  youth:  "Come, 
my  son,"  said  he,  "  I  will  take  you  to  an  island  covered 
with  the  most  beautiful  stones  and  pebbles,  looking  like 
silver.  I  wish  you  to  assist  me  in  gathering  some  of 
them.  They  will  mAke  handsome  ornaments,  and  pos- 
sess great  medicinal  virtues."  Entering  the  canoe,  the 
magician  made  use  of  his  charm,  and  they  were  carried 
in  u  few  moments  to  a  solitary  bay  in  an  island,  where 


THE  MAGICIAN  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


207 


there  was  a  sraooth  sandv  beach.  The  vonnp;  man  went 
ashore  as  usual,  and  began  to  searcli.  "A  little  further, 
a  little  further,"  cried  the  old  nmn.  "Upon  that  rock 
you  will  get  some  fine  ones."  Then  pushing  his  canoe 
from  land — "Come,  thou  great  king  of  fishes,"  cried  the 
old  man ;  "you  have  long  expected  an  ofi\?ring  from  me. 
Come,  and  eat  the  stranger  whom  I  have  just  put 
ashore  on  your  island."  So  saying,  he  commanded  his 
canoe  to  return,  and  it  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Immediately  a  monstrous  fish  thrust  his  long  snout 
from  the  water,  crawling  partially  on  the  beach,  and 
opening  wide  his  jaws  to  receive  his  victim.  "When  !" 
exclaimed  the  young  man,  drawing  his  knife  and  put- 
ting himself  in  a  threatening  attitude,  "when  did  you 
ever  taste  human  flesh  ?  Have  a  care  of  yourself.  You 
were  given  by  the  Great  Spirit  to  man,  and  if  you,  or 
any  of  your  tribe  eat  human  flesh  you  will  fall  sick  and 
die.  Listen  not  to  the  words  of  that  wicked  man,  but 
carry  me  back  to  his  island,  in  return  for  which  I  will 
present  you  a  piece  of  red  cloth."  The  fish  complied, 
raising  his  back  out  of  the  water,  to  allow  the  young 
man  to  get  on.  Then  taking  his  way  through  the  lake, 
he  landed  his  charge  safely  on  the  island  before  the  re- 
turn of  the  magician.  The  daughters  were  still  more 
surprised  to  see  that  he  had  escaped  the  arts  of  their 
father  the  second  time.  But  the  old  man  on  his  return 
maintained  his  taciturnity  and  self-composure.  He 
could  not,  however,  help  saying  to  himself — "What 
manner  of  boy  is  this,  who  is  ever  escaping  from  my 
power?  But  his  spirit  shall  not  save  him.  I  will  entrap 
him  to-morrow.     Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

Next  day  the  magician  addressed  the  young  man  as 
follows:  "Come,  ni}  son,"  said  he,  "you  must  go  with 
me  to  procure  some  young  eagles.     I  wish  to  tame 


iii 


i!       jJM 


i 


208 


misiiosha;  or, 


them.  I  have  discovered  an  island  where  they  are  in 
great  abundance."  When  they  had  reached  the  island, 
Mishosha  led  him  inland  until  they  came  to  the  foot  of 
a  tall  pine,  upon  which  the  nests  were.  "Now,  my 
son,"  said  he,  "climb  up  this  tree  and  bring  down  the 
birds."  The  young  man  obeyed.  When  he  had  with 
great  difficulty  got  near  the  nest,  "Now,"  exclaimed 
the  magician,  addressing  the  tree,  "stretch  yourself  up 
and  be  very  tall."  The  tree  rose  up  at  the  command. 
"Listen,  ye  eagles,"  continued  the  old  man,  "you  have 
long  expected  a  gift  from  me,  I  now  present  you  this 
boy,  who  has  had  the  presumption  to  molest  your  young. 
Stretch  forth  your  claws  and  seize  him."  So  saying,  he 
left  the  young  man  to  his  fate,  and  returned. 

But  the  intrepid  youth,  drawing  his  knife,  and  cut- 
ting off  the  head  of  the  first  eagle  that  menaced  him, 
raised  his  voice  and  exclaimed,  "  Thus  will  I  deal  with 
all  who  come  near  me.  What  right  have  you,  ye  raven- 
ous birds,  who  were  made  to  feed  on  beasts,  to  eat  hu- 
man flesh  ?  Is  it  because  that  cowardly  old  canoe-man 
has  bid  you  do  so  ?  He  is  an  old  woman.  IJe  can 
neither  do  you  good  nor  harm.  See,  I  have  already 
slain  one  of  your  number.  Respect  my  bravery,  and 
carry  me  back  that  I  may  show  you  how  I  shall  treat 
you." 

The  eagles,  pleased  with  his  spirit,  assented,  and 
clustering  thick  around  him  formed  a  seat  with  their 
backs,  and  flew  toward  the  enchanted  island.  As  they 
crossed  the  water  they  passed  over  the  magician,  lying 
half  asleep  in  his  canoe. 

The  return  of  the  young  man  was  hailed  with  joy  by 
the  daughters,  who  now  plainly  saw  that  he  was  under 
the  guidance  of  a  strong  spirit.  But  the  ire  of  the 
old  man  was  excited,  although  he  kept  his  temper  un- 


I 


THE  MAGICIAN  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


209 


der  su1»jection.  He  taxed  his  wits  for  some  new  mode 
of  ridding  himself  of  the  youth,  who  had  so  success- 
fully baffled  his  skill.  He  next  invited  him  to  go  a 
hunting. 

Taking  his  canoe,  they  proceeded  to  an  Island  and 
built  a  lodge  to  shelter  themselves  during  the  night. 
In  the  mean  while  the  magician  caused  a  deep  fall  of 
snow,  with  a  storm  of  wind  and  severe  cold.  Accord- 
ing to  custom,  the  young  man  pulled  off  his  moccasins 
and  leggings,  and  hung  them  before  the  fire  to  dry. 
After  he  had  gone  to  sleep,  the  magician,  watching  his 
opportunity,  got  up,  and  taking  one  moccasin  and  one 
legging,  threw  them  into  the  fire.  He  then  went  to 
sleep.  In  the  morning,  stretching  himself  as  he  arose 
and  uttering  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  "  My  son," 
said  he,  "  what  has  become  of  your  moccasin  and  leg- 
ging ?  I  believe  this  is  the  moon  in  which  fire  attracts, 
and  I  fear  they  have  been  drawn  in."  The  young  man 
suspected  the  true  cause  of  his  loss,  and  rightly  at- 
tributed it  to  a  design  of  the  magician  to  freeze  him  to 
death  on  the  march.  But  he  maintained  the  strictest 
silence,  and  drawing  his  conaus  over  his  head,  thus 
communed  with  himself:  "I  have  full  faith  in  the 
Manito  who  has  preserved  me  thus  far,  I  do  not  fear 
that  he  will  forsake  me  In  this  cruel  emergency. 
Great  is  his  power,  and  I  invoke  it  now  that  he  may 
enable  me  to  prevail  over  this  wicked  enemy  of  man- 
kind." 

He  then  drew  on  the  remaining  moccasin  and  legging, 
and  taking  a  dead  coal  from  the  fireplace,  invoked  his 
spirit  to  give  it  efficacy,  and  blackened  his  foot  and  leg 
as  far  as  the  lost  garment  usually  reached.  He  then 
got  up  and  announced  himself  ready  for  the  march.  In 
vain  Mishosha  led  him  through  snows  and  over  mo- 

18* 


11 


210 


misiiosiia;  or, 


%  ■  :;!' 


":  ■ ;' 


rasses,  hoping  to  see  the  lad  sink  at  every  moment. 
But  in  this  he  was  disappointed,  and  for  the  first  time 
tliey  returned  home  together. 

Taking  courage  from  this  success,  the  young  man 
now  determined  to  try  his  own  power,  having  previously 
consulted  with  the  daughters.  They  all  agreed  that 
the  life  the  old  man  led  was  detestable,  and  that  who- 
ever would  rid  the  world  of  him,  would  entitle  himself 
to  the  thanks  of  the  human  race. 

On  the  following  day  the  young  man  thus  addressed 
his  hoary  captor:  "  My  grandfather,  I  have  often  gone 
with  you  on  perilous  excursions,  and  never  murmured. 
I  must  now  request  that  you  will  accompany  me.  I 
wish  to  visit  my  little  brother,  and  to  bring  him  home 
with  me."  They  accordingly  went  on  a  visit  to  the 
main  land,  and  found  the  little  lad  in  the  spot  where 
he  had  been  left.  After  taking  him  into  the  canoe,  the 
young  man  again  addressed  the  magician:  "My grand- 
father, will  you  go  and  cut  me  a  few  of  those  red 
willows  on  the  bank,  I  wish  to  prepare  some  smoking 
mixture."  " Certainly,  my  son,"  replied  the  old  man; 
"what  you  wish  is  not  very  hard.  Ha,  ha,  ha  I  do  you 
think  me  too  old  to  get  up  there  ?"  No  sooner  was 
Mishosha  ashore,  than  the  young  man,  placing  himself 
in  the  proper  position  struck  the  canoe  with  his  hand, 
and  pronouncing  the  charm,  N'chimaun  Poll,  the 
canoe  immediately  flew  through  the  water  on  its  return 
to  the  island.  It  was  evening  when  the  two  brothers 
arrived,  and  carried  the  canoe  ashore.  But  the  elder 
daughter  informed  the  young  man  that  unless  he  sat  up 
and  watched  the  canoe,  and  kept  his  hand  upon  it,  such 
was  the  power  of  their  father,  it  would  slip  oflf  and  re- 
turn to  him.  Panigwun  watched  faithfully  till  near  the 
dawn  of  day,  when  he  could  no  longer  resist  the  drow- 


THE  MAGICIAN  OF  LAKE  SUrERIOR. 


211 


siness  which  oppressed  him,  and  he  fell  into  a  short 
doze.  In  the  mean  time,  the  canoe  slipped  off  and  sought 
its  master,  who  soon  returned  in  high  glee.  "  Ila,  ha, 
ha  1  my  son,"  said  he ;  "you  thought  to  play  me  a  trick. 
It  was  very  clever.  But  you  see  I  am  too  old  for  you." 
A  sliort  time  after,  the  youth  again  addressed  the 
magician.  "  My  grandfather,  I  wish  to  try  my  skill  in 
hunting.  It  is  said  there  is  plenty  of  game  on  an 
island  not  far  off,  and  I  have  to  request  that  you  will 
take  me  there  in  your  canoe."  They  accordingly  went 
to  the  island  and  spent  the  day  in  hunting.  Night 
coming  on  they  put  up  a  temporary  lodge.  When 
the  magician  had  sunk  into  a  profound  sleep,  the  young 
man  got  up,  and  taking  one  of  Mishosha's  leggings  and 
moccasins  from  the  place  where  they  hung,  threw  them 
into  the  fire,  thus  retaliating  the  artifice  before  played 
upon  himself.  He  had  discovered  that  the  foot  and 
leg  were  the  only  vulnerable  parts  of  the  magician's 
body.  Having  committed  these  articles  to  the  fire,  he 
besought  his  Manito  that  he  would  raise  a  great  storm 
of  snow,  wind,  and  hail,  and  then  laid  himself  down 
beside  the  old  man.  Consternation  was  depicted  on 
the  countenance  of  the  latter,  when  he  awoke  in  the 
morning  and  found  his  moccasin  and  legging  missing. 
**  I  believe,  my  grandfather,"  said  the  young  man,  "  that 
this  is  the  moon  in  which  fire  attracts,  and  I  fear  your 
foot  and  leg  garments  have  been  drawn  in."  Then 
rising  and  bidding  the  old  man  follow  him,  he  began 
the  morning's  hunt,  frequently  turning  to  see  how  Mis- 
hosha  kept  up.  He  saw  him  faltering  at  every  step, 
and  almost  benumbed  with  cold,  but  encouraged  him  to 
follow,  saying,  we  shall  soon  get  through  and  reach  the 
shore ;  although  he  took  pains,  at  the  same  time,  to 
lead  him  in  roundabout  ways,  so  as  to  let  the  frost  take 


i1 


i 


Ki'i; 


4; 


■'i 

1 

m 

, 

1 

1 

1 

I 

1 

212    mtsiiosiia;  or,  the  magician  of  lake  superior. 

complete  effect.  At  length  the  old  man  reached  the 
brink  of  the  island  where  the  woods  are  succeeded  by 
a  border  of  smooth  sand.  But  he  could  go  no  farther ; 
his  legs  became  stiff  and  refused  motion,  and  he  found 
himself  fixed  to  the  spot.  But  he  still  kept  stretching 
out  his  arms  and  swinging  his  body  to  and  fro.  Every 
moment  he  found  the  numbness  creeping  higher.  He 
felt  his  legs  growing  downward  like  roots,  the  feathers 
of  his  head  turned  to  leaves,  and  in  a  few  seconds  he 
stood  a  tall  and  stiff  sycamore,  leaning  toward  the 
water. 

Panigwun  leaped  into  the  canoe,  and  pronouncing 
the  charm,  was  soon  transported  to  the  island,  where 
he  related  his  victory  to  the  daughters.  They  ap- 
plauded the  deed,  agreed  to  put  on  mortal  shapes, 
become  wives  to  the  two  young  men,  and  forever  quit 
the  enchanted  island.  And  passing  immediately  over 
to  the  main  land,  they  lived  lives  of  happiness  and 
peace. 


PEETA  KWAY, 


THE  FOAM-WOMAN. 


AN   OTTOWA   LEGEND. 


There  once  lived  a  woman  called  Moiiedo  Kway* 
on  the  sand  monntaiiis  called  "  the  Sleeping  Bear,"  of 
Lake  Michigan,  who  had  a  daughter  as  beautiful  as 
she  was  modest  and  discreet.  Everybody  spoke  of  the 
beauty  of  this  daughter.  She  was  so  handsome  that 
her  mother  feared  she  would  be  carried  off,  and  to  pre- 
vent it  she  put  her  in  a  box  on  the  lake,  which  was  tied 
by  a  long  string  to  a  stake  on  the  shore.  Every  morn- 
ing the  mother  pulled  the  box  ashore,  and  combed  her 
daughter's  long,  shining  hair,  gave  her  food,  and  then 
put  her  out  again  on  the  lake. 

One  day  a  handsome  young  man  chanced  to  come  to 
the  spot  at  the  moment  she  was  receiving  her  morn- 
ing's attentions  from  her  mother.  He  was  struck  with 
her  beauty,  and  immediately  went  home  and  told  his 
feelings  to  his  uncle,  who  was  a  great  chief  and  a 
powerful  magician.  "  My  nephew,"  replied  the  old 
man,  "  go  to  the  mother's  lodge,  and  sit  down  in  a 
modest  manner,  without  saying  a  word.  You  need  not 
ask  her  the  question.  But  whatever  you  think  she  will 
understand,  and  what  she  thinks  in  answer  you  will  also 


*  Female  spirit  or  prophetess. 


I!  I 


If 


I     t: 


214 


PEETA  KWAY; 


understand."  The  young  man  did  so.  He  sat  down, 
with  his  head  dropped  in  a  thoughtful  manner,  without 
uttering  a  word.  lie  then  thought,  "  I  wish  she  would 
give  me  her  daughter."  Very  soon  he  understood  the 
mother's  thoughts  in  reply.  "  Give  you  my  daughter  ?" 
thought  she;  "you/  No,  indeed,  my  daughter  shall 
never  marry  i/ou."  The  young  man  went  away  and 
reported  the  result  to  his  uncle.  "  Woman  without 
good  sense;"  said  he,  "  who  is  she  keeping  her  daugh- 
ter for  ?  Does  she  think  she  will  marry  the  Mudjike- 
wis  ?*  Proud  heart  I  we  will  try  her  magic  skill,  and 
see  whether  she  can  withstand  our  power."  The  pride 
and  haughtiness  of  the  mother  was  talked  of  by  the 
spirits  living  on  that  part  of  the  lake.  They  met 
together  and  determined  to  exert  their  power  in  hum- 
bling her.  For  this  purpose  they  resolved  to  raise  a 
great  storm  on  the  lake.  The  water  began  to  toss  and 
roar,  and  the  tempest  became  so  severe,  that  the  string 
broke,  and  the  box  floated  off  through  the  straits  down 
Lake  Huron,  and  struck  against  the  sandy  shores  at  its 
outlet.  The  place  where  it  struck  was  near  the  lodge 
of  a  superannuated  old  spirit  called  Ishkwon  Daimeka, 
or  the  keeper  of  the  gate  of  the  lakes.  He  opened  the 
box  and  let  out  the  beautiful  daughter,  took  her  into 
his  lodge,  and  married  her. 

When  the  mother  found  that  her  daughter  had  been 
blown  off  by  the  storm,  she  raised  very  loud  cries  and 
lamented  exceedingly.  Thi?  she  continued  to  do  for  a 
long  time,  and  vvouM  not  be  comforted.  At  length, 
after  two  or  three  years,  the  spirits  had  pity  on  her, 
and  determined  to  raise  another  storm  and  bring  her 

*  A  torm  indicative  of  the  heir  or  successor  to  the  lirst 
place  in  powiM*. 


)1 


THE  FOAM-WOMAN. 


215 


back.  It  was  even  a  greater  storm  than  the  first ;  and 
when  it  began  to  wash  away  the  ground  and  encroach 
on  the  lodge  of  Ishkvvon  Daimeka,  she  leaped  into  the 
box,  and  the  waves  carried  her  back  to  the  very  spot  of 
her  mother's  lodge  on  the  shore.  Monedo  Equa  was 
overjoyed  ;  but  when  she  opened  the  box,  she  found 
that  her  daughter's  beauty  had  almost  all  departed. 
However,  she  loved  her  still  because  she  was  her  daugh- 
ter, and  now  thought  of  the  young  man  who  had  made 
her  the  offer  of  marriage.  She  sent  a  formal  message 
to  him,  but  he  had  altered  his  mind,  for  he  knew  that 
she  had  been  the  wife  of  another  :  "  /  marry  your 
daughter  ?"  said  he  ;  "  your  daughter  I  No,  indeed  1 
I  shall  never  marry  her." 

The  storm  that  brought  her  back  was  so  strong 
and  powerful,  that  it  tore  away  a  large  part  of  the 
shore  of  the  lake,  and  swept  off  Ishkwon  Daimeka's 
lodge,  the  fragments  of  which,  lodging  in  the  straits, 
formed  those  beautiful  islands  which  are  scattered  in 
the  St.  Clair  and  Detroit  rivers.  The  old  man  himself 
was  drowned,  and  his  bones  are  buried  under  them. 
Tliey  heard  him  singing  his  songs  of  lamentation  as  he 
was  driven  oft'  on  a  portion  of  his  lodge ;  as  if  he  had 
been  called  to  testify  his  bravery  and  sing  his  war  song 
at  the  stake. 

I  rido  tho  waters  like  tlio  winds  ; 
Is'o  storms  can  blciah  iny  hoart. 


PAII-HAH-UNDOOTAII, 


THE  RED  HEAD. 


A   DACOTAH   LEGEND. 


h 


As  spring  approaches,  the  Indians  return  from  their 
wintering  grounds  to  their  villages,  engage  in  feasting, 
soon  exhaust  their  stock  of  provisions,  and  begin  to 
suffer  for  the  want  of  food.  Such  of  the  hunters  as  are 
of  an  active  and  enterprising  cast  of  character,  take  the 
occasion  to  separate  from  the  mass  of  the  population,  and 
remove  to  some  neighboring  locality  in  the  forest, 
which  promises  the  means  of  subsistence  during  this 
season  of  general  lassitude  and  enjoyment. 

Among  the  families  who  thus  separated  themselves, 
on  a  certain  occasion,  there  was  a  man  called  Odsiie- 
DOPii  Wauciieentongaii,  or  the  Child  of  Strong  De- 
sires, who  had  a  wife  and  one  son.  After  a  day's  travel 
he  reached  an  ample  wood  with  his  family,  which  was 
thought  to  be  a  suitable  place  to  encamp.  The  wife 
fixed  the  lodge,  while  the  husband  went  out  to  hunt. 
Early  in  the  evening  he  returned  with  a  deer.  Being 
tired  and  thirsty  he  asked  his  son  to  go  to  the  river  for 
some  water.  The  son  replied  that  it  was  dark  and  ho 
was  afraid.  lie  urged  him  to  go,  saying  that  his 
mother,  as  well  as  himself,  was  tired,  and  tlu;  distance 
to  the  water  was  very  short.    But  no  i)ersuasion  was  of 


PAII-IIAII-UNDOOTAII;    THE  RED  HEAD. 


217 


any  avail.  He  refused  to  go.  "All,  my  son,"  said  the 
father,  at  last,  ''if  you  are  afraid  to  go  t(  the  river,  you 
will  never  kill  the  Red  Head." 

The  boy  was  deeply  mortified  by  this  observation. 
It  seemed  to  call  up  all  his  latent  energies.  He  mused 
in  silence.  He  refused  to  eat,  and  made  no  reply  when 
spoken  to. 

The  next  day  he  asked  his  mother  to  dress  the  skin 
of  the  deer,  and  make  it  into  moccasins  for  him,  while 
he  busied  himself  in  preparing  a  bow  and  arrows.  As 
soon  as  these  things  were  done,  he  left  the  lodge  one 
morning  at  sunrise,  without  saying  a  word  to  his  father 
or  mother.  He  fired  one  of  his  arrows  into  the  air, 
which  fell  westward.  He  took  that  course,  and  at 
night  coming  to  the  spot  where  the  arrow  had  fallen, 
was  rejoiced  to  find  it  piercing  the  heart  of  a  deer.  He 
refreshed  himself  with  a  meal  of  the  venison,  and  the 
next  morning  fired  another  arrow.  After  travelling  all 
day,  he  found  it  also  in  another  deer.  In  this  manner 
he  fired  four  arrows,  and  every  evening  found  that  ho 
had  killed  a  deer.  What  was  very  singular,  however, 
was,  that  he  left  the  arrows  sticking  in  the  carcasses, 
and  passed  on  without  withdrawing  them.  In  conse- 
quence of  this,  he  had  no  arrow  for  the  fifth  day,  and 
was  in  great  distress  at  night  for  the  want  of  food.  At 
last  he  threw  himself  upon  the  ground  in  despair,  con- 
cluding that  he  might  as  well  perish  there  as  go  further. 
IJut  he  had  not  lain  long  before  he  heard  a  hollow, 
rumbling  noise,  in  the  ground  beneath  him.  He  sprang 
up,  and  discovered  at  a  distance  the  figure  of  a  human 
being,  walking  with  a  stick.  He  looked  attentively 
and  saw  that  the  figure  was  walking  in  a  wide  beaten 
|)ath,  in  a  pniiric,  leading  from  a  lodge  to  a  lake.  To 
his  surprise,  tin's  hxigo  was  at  no  great  distance.  Ho 
10 


'•3T?' 


218 


rAll-HAIl-UNl>OOTAII ; 


approached  a  little  nearer  and  concealed  himself.  Jfe 
soon  discovered  that  the  figure  was  no  other  than  tluit 
of  the  terrible  witch,  Wok-on-kaiitoun-zooeyah-pee- 
KAir-iiAiTciiEE,  or  the  little  old  woman  who  makes  war. 
Her  path  to  the  lake  was  perfectly  smooth  and  solid, 
and  the  noise  our  adventurer  had  heard,  was  caused  by 
the  striking  of  her  walking  staff  upon  the  ground.  The 
top  of  this  staff  was  decorated  with  a  string  of  the  toes 
and  bills  of  birds  of  every  kind,  who  at  every  stroke  of 
the  stick,  fluttered  and  sung  their  various  notes  in  con- 
cert. 

She  entered  her  lodge  and  laid  off  her  mantle,  which 
was  entirely  composed  of  the  scalps  of  women.  Before 
folding  it,  she  shook  it  several  times,  and  at  every  shake 
the  scalps  uttered  loud  shouts  of  laughter,  in  which  the 
old  hag  joined.  Nothing  could  have  frightened  him 
more  than  this  horrific  exhibition.  After  laying  by  the 
cloak  she  came  directly  to  him.  She  informed  him  that 
she  had  known  him  from  the  time  he  left  his  father's 
lodge,  and  watched  his  movements.  She  told  him  not 
to  fear  or  despair,  for  she  would  be  his  friend  and  pro- 
tector. She  invited  him  into  her  lodge,  and  gave  him 
a  supper.  During  the  repast,  she  inquired  of  him  his 
motives  for  visiting  her.  He  related  his  history,  stated 
the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  disgraced,  and  the 
difficulties  he  labored  under.  Slie  cheered  him  with 
the  assurance  of  her  friendship,  and  told  him  he  would 
be  a  brave  man  yet. 

She  then  commenced  the  exercise  of  her  power  upon 
him.  His  hair  being  very  short,  she  took  a  large  leaden 
comb,  and  after  drawing  it  through  his  hair  several 
times,  it  became  of  a  handsome  feminine  length.  She 
then  ))roceeded  to  dress  him  ns  a  fenuile,  furnishing  him 
with  the  necessary  ganneiits,  and  decorated   his  faco 


THE  RED  HEAD. 


219 


with  paints  of  the  most  beautiful  dye.  She  gave  him  a 
bowl  of  sliiuing  metal.  She  directed  him  to  put  in  his 
j^inlle  a  blade  of  scented  sword-f^rass,  and  to  proceed 
the  next  morning  to  the  banks  of  the  lake,  which  was 
no  other  than  that  over  which  the  Red  Head  reigned. 
Now  PAii-iiAn-UNDOOTAii,  or  the  Red  Head,  was  a 
most  powerful  sorcerer  and  the  terror  of  all  the  country, 
living  upon  an  island  in  the  centre  of  the  lake. 

She  informed  him  that  there  would  be  many  Indians 
on  the  island,  who,  as  soon  as  they  saw  him  use  the 
shining  l)owl  to  drink  with,  would  come  and  solicit  him 
to  be  their  wife,  and  to  take  him  over  to  the  island. 
These  offers  he  was  to  refuse,  and  say  that  he  had  come 
a  great  distance  to  be  the  wife  of  the  Red  Head,  and 
that  if  the  chief  could  not  come  for  her  in  his  own  canoe, 
she  should  return  to  her  village.  She  said  that  as  soon 
as  the  Red  Head  heard  of  this,  he  would  come  for  her 
in  his  own  canoe,  in  which  she  must  embark.  On 
reaching  the  island  he  must  consent  to  be  his  wife,  and 
in  the  evening  induce  him  to  take  a  walk  out  of  the 
village,  when  lie  was  to  take  the  lirst  opportunity  to  cut 
olf  his  head  with  the  blade  of  grass.  She  also  gave 
him  general  advice  how  he  was  to  conduct  himself  to 
sustain  his  assumed  character  of  a  woman.  His  fear 
would  scarcely  permit  him  to  accede  to  this  plan,  but 
the  recollection  of  his  father's  words  and  looks  decided 
him. 

Early  in  the  morning,  he  left  the  witch's  lodge,  and 
took  the  hard  beaten  i)alh  to  the  banks  of  the  lake. 
He  reached  the  water  at  a  ])oint  directly  opposite  the 
Red  Head's  village.  It  was  a  beautiful  day.  The 
heavens  were  clear,  and  the  sun  shone  out  in  the 
greatest  elVnlgence.  He  hud  not  been  long  there, 
having  sauntered  along  the  beach,  when  he  displayed 


^rw 


220 


PAII-IIAH-UNDOOTAII ; 


: 


the  flittering:  bowl,  by  dip))ino;  water  from  the  lake. 
Very  soon  a  number  of  canoes  came  oft'  from  the  island. 
The  men  admired  his  dress,  and  were  charmed  with  his 
beauty,  and  a  great  number  made  proposals  of  marriage. 
These  he  promptly  declined,  agreeably  to  the  concerted 
plan.  When  the  facts  were  reported  to  the  Red  Head, 
he  ordered  his  canoe  to  be  put  in  the  water  by  his 
chosen  men,  and  crossed  over  to  see  this  wonderful 
girl.  As  he  came  near  the  shore,  he  saw  that  the  ribs 
of  the  sorcerer's  canoe  were  formed  of  living  rattle- 
snakes, whose  heads  pointed  outward  to  guard  him  from 
enemies.  Our  adventurer  had  no  sooner  stepped  into 
the  canoe  than  they  began  to  hiss  and  rattle,  which 
put  him  in  a  great  fright.  But  the  magician  spoke  to 
them,  after  which  they  became  pacified  and  quiet,  and 
al!  at  once  they  were  at  the  landing  upon  the  island. 
The  marriage  immediately  took  place,  and  the  bride 
made  presents  of  various  valuables  which  had  been 
furnished  by  the  old  witch. 

As  they  were  sitting  in  the  lodge  surrounded  by 
friends  and  relatives,  the  mother  of  the  lied  Head 
regarded  the  face  of  her  new  daughter-in-law  for  a. long 
time  with  fixed  attention.  From  this  scrutiny  she  was 
convinced  that  this  singular  and  hasty  marriage  augured 
no  good  to  her  son.  She  drew  her  husband  aside  and 
disclosed  to  him  her  suspicions:  "This  can  be  no  female," 
said  she ;  "the  figure  and  manners,  the  countenance,  and 
more  especially  the  expression  of  the  eyes,  are,  beyond 
a  doubt,  those  of  a  man."  Her  husband  immediately 
rejected  her  suspicions,  and  rebuked  her  severely  for 
the  indignity  offered  to  her  daughter-in-law.  He  be- 
came so  angry,  that  seizing  the  iirst  thing  that  came  to 
hand,  which  happened  to  be  his  pipe  stem,  Iv  beat  her 
unmercifully.     This  act  requiring  to  be  explained  to 


THE  RED  HEAD. 


221 


the  spectators,  the  mock  bride  immediately  rose  np,  and 
assuming  an  air  of  offended  dignity,  told  the  Red  Head 
that  after  receiving  so  gross  an  insult  from  his  relatives 
he  could  not  think  of  remaining  with  him  as  his  wife, 
but  should  forthwith  return  to  his  village  and  friends. 
He  left  the  lodge  followed  by  the  Red  Head,  and  walked 
until  he  came  upon  the  beach  of  the  island,  near  the 
spot  where  they  had  first  landed.  Red  Head  entreated 
him  to  remain.  He  pressed  him  by  every  motive  which 
he  thought  might  have  weight,  but  they  were  all  re- 
jected. During  this  conference  they  had  seated  them- 
selves upon  the  ground,  and  Red  Head,  in  great  afflic- 
tion, reclined  his  head  upon  his  fancied  wife's  lap. 
This  was  the  opportunity  ardently  sought  for,  and  it 
was  improved  to  the  best  advantage.  Every  means 
was  taken  to  lull  him  to  sleep,  and  partly  by  a  sooth- 
ing manner,  and  partly  by  a  seeming  compliance  with 
his  request,  the  object  was  at  last  attained.  Red  Head 
fell  into  a  sound  sleep.  Our  aspirant  for  the  glory  of 
a  brave  man  then  drew  his  blade  of  grass,  and  draw- 
ing it  once  across  the  neck  of  the  Red  Head  completely 
severed  the  head  from  the  body. 

He  immediately  stripped  off  his  dress,  seized  the 
bleeding  head,  and  plunging  into  the  lake,  swam  safely 
over  to  the  main  shore.  He  had  scarcely  reached  it, 
when,  looking  back,  he  saw  amid  the  darkness  the 
torches  of  persons  come  out  in  search  of  the  new-mar- 
ried couple.  He  listened  till  they  had  found  the  head- 
less body,  and  he  heard  their  piercing  shrieks  of  sor- 
row, as  he  took  his  way  to  the  lodge  of  his  kind  ad- 
viser. 

She  received  him  with  rejoicing.     She  admired  his 
prudence,  and  told  him  his  bravery  could  never  be  ques- 
Lifting  up  the  head,  she  said  he  need 
ID* 


tioncd  again. 


222 


rAII-IIAII-UNDOOTAH;    THE  RED  HEAD. 


I 


only  have  l)rou<j^lit  tlic  scalp.  She  cut  off  a  small  ])iece 
for  herself,  and  told  him  he  might  now  return  with  the 
head,  which  would  be  evidence  of  an  achievement  that 
would  cause  the  Indians  to  respect  him.  In  your  way 
home,  she  said,  you  will  meet  with  but  one  difficulty. 
Maunkaii  Keesh  Woccaung,  or  the  spirit  of  the  Earth, 
requires  an  offering  from  those  who  perform  extraordi- 
nary achievements.  As  you  walk  along  in  a  prairie,  there 
will  be  an  earthquake.  The  earth  will  open  and  divide 
the  prairie  in  the  m.ddle.  Take  this  partridge  and 
throw  it  into  the  opening,  and  instantly  spring  over  it. 
All  this  happened  precisely  as  it  had  been  foretold. .  He 
cast  the  partridge  into  the  crevice  and  leapt  over  it. 
He  then  proceeded  without  obstruction  to  a  place  near 
his  village,  where  he  secreted  his  trophy.  On  entering 
the  village  he  found  his  parents  had  returned  from  the 
place  of  their  spring  encampment,  and  were  in  great 
sorrow  for  their  son,  whom  they  supposed  to  be  lost. 
One  and  another  of  the  young  men  had  presented  them- 
selves to  the  disconsolate  parents,  and  said,  "  Look  up, 
I  am  your  son."  Having  been  often  deceived  in  this 
manner,  when  their  own  son  actually  presented  himself, 
they  sat  with  their  heads  down,  and  with  their  eyes 
nearly  blinded  with  weeping.  It  was  some  time  before 
they  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  bestow  a  glance  upon 
him.  It  was  still  longer  before  they  recognized  him 
for  their  son ;  when  he  recounted  his  adventures  they 
believed  him  mad.  The  young  men  laughed  at  him. 
He  left  the  lodge  and  soon  returned  with  his  trophy. 
It  was  soon  recognized.  All  doubts  of  the  reality  of 
his  adventures  now  vanished.  He  was  greeted  with 
joy  and  placed  among  the  first  warriors  of  the  nation. 
He  finally  became  a  chief,  and  his  family  were  ever 
after  respected  and  esteemed. 


THE  WHITE  STONE  r\.SOK 


There  was  once  a  very  beautiful  young  girl,  who  died 
suddenly  on  the  day  she  was  to  have  been  married  to  a 
handsome  young  man.  He  was  also  brave,  but  his 
heart  was  not  proof  against  this  loss.  From  the  hour 
she  was  buried,  there  was  no  more  joy  or  peace  for  him. 
He  went  often  to  visit  the  spot  where  the  women  had 
buried  her,  and  sat  musing  there,  when,  it  was  thought, 
by  some  of  his  friends,  he  would  have  done  better  to 
try  to  amuse  himself  in  the  chase,  or  by  diverting  his 
thoughts  in  the  war-path.  But  war  and  hunting  had 
both  lost  their  charms  for  him.  His  heart  was  already 
dead  within  him.  lie  pushed  aside  both  his  war-club 
and  his  bow  and  arrows. 

lie  had  heard  the  old  people  say,  that  there  was  a 
path  that  led  to  the  land  of  souls,  and  he  determined 
to  follow  it.  He  accordingly  set  out,  one  morning, 
after  having  completed  his  preparations  for  the  journey. 
At  first  he  hardly  knew  which  way  to  go.  He  was 
only  guided  by  the  tradition  that  he  must  go  south. 
For  a  while  he  could  see  no  change  in  the  face  of  the 
country.  Forests,  and  hills,  and  valleys,  and  streams  had 
the  same  looks  which  they  wore  in  his  native  place. 
There  was  snow  on  the  ground,  when  he  set  out,  and  it 
was  sometimes  seen  to  be  piled  and  matted  on  the  thick 
trees  and  bushes.  At  length  it  began  to  diminish,  and 
finally  disappeared.     The  forest  assumed  a  more  cheer- 


224 


THE  WHITE  STONE  CANOE. 


fal  appearance,  and  the  leaves  put  forth  their  bnds,  and 
before  he  was  aware  of  the  completeness  of  the  change, 
he  found  himself  surrounded  by  spring.  He  had  left 
behind  him  the  land  of  snow  and  ice.  The  air  became 
mild  ;  the  dark  clouds  of  winter  had  rolled  away  from 
the  sky;  a  pure  field  of  blue  was  above  him,  and  as  he 
went  he  saw  flowers  beside  his  path,  and  heard  the  songs 
of  birds.  By  these  signs  he  knew  that  he  was  going  the 
right  way,  for  they  agreed  with  the  traditions  of  his 
tribe.  At  length  he  spied  a  path.  It  led  him  through 
a  grove,  then  up  a  long  and  elevated  ridge,  on  the  very 
top  of  which  he  came  to  a  lodge.  At  the  door  stood 
an  old  man,  with  white  hair,  whose  eyes,  though  deeply 
sunk,  had  a  fiery  brilliancy.  He  had  a  long  robe  of 
skins  thrown  loosely  around  his  shoulders,  and  a  staff 
in  his  hands.     It  was  Chebiabos. 

The  young  Chippewa  began  to  tell  his  story ;  but 
the  venerable  chief  arrested  him,  before  he  had  pro- 
ceeded to  speak  ten  words.  "I  have  expected  you," 
he  replied,  "and  had  just  risen  to  bid  you  welcome  to 
my  abode.  She  whom  you  seek,  passed  here  but  a  few 
days  since,  and  being  fatigued  with  her  journey,  rested 
herself  here.  Enter  my  lodge  and  be  seated,  and  I  will 
then  satisfy  your  inquiries,  and  give  you  directions  for 
your  journey  from  this  point."  Having  done  this,  they 
both  issued  forth  to  the  lodge  door.  "  You  see  yonder 
gulf,"  said  he,  "and  the  wide  stretching  blue  plains  be- 
yond. It  is  the  land  of  souls.  You  stand  upon  its  bor- 
ders, and  my  lodge  is  the  gate  of  entrance.  But  you  can- 
not take  yonr  body  along.  Leave  it  here  with  your  bow 
and  arrows,  your  bundle,  and  your  dog.  You  will  find 
them  safe  on  your  return."  So  saying,  he  re-entered 
the  lodge,  and  the  freed  traveller  bounded  forward,  as  if 
his  feet  had  suddenly  been  endowed  with  the  power  of 


THE  WHITE  STONE  CANOE. 


225 


wings.    "But  all  things  retained  their  natural  colors  and 
shapes.     The  woods  and  leaves,  and  streams  and  lakes, 
were  only  more  liright  and  comely  than  he  had  ever  wit- 
nessed.   Animals  bounded  across  his  path,  with  a  free- 
dom and  a  confidence  which  seemed  to  tell  him,  there 
was  no  blood  shed  here.    Birds  of  beautiful  plumage  in- 
habited the  groves,  and  sported  in  the  waters.     There 
was  but  one  thing,  in  which  he  saw  a  very  unusual 
effect.     He  noticed  that  his  passage  was  not  stopped 
by  trees  or  other  objects.    He  appeared  to  walk  directly 
through  them.     They  were,  in  fact,  but  the  souls  or 
shadows  of  material  trees.    He  became  sensible  that  he 
was  in  a  land  of  shadows.    When  he  had  travelled  half 
a  day's  journey,  through  a  country  which  was  continu- 
ally becoming  more  attractive,  he  came  to  the  banks  of 
a  broad  lake,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  large  and 
beautiful  island.     He  found  a  canoe  of  shining  white 
stone,  tied  to  the  shore.     He  was  now  sure  that  he 
had  come  the  right  pith,  for  the  aged  man  had  told  hira 
of  this.     There  were  also  shining  paddles.     He  imme- 
diately entered  the  canoe,  and  took  the  paddles  in  his 
hands,  when  to  his  joy  and  surprise,  on  turning  round, 
he  beheld  the  object  of  his  search  in  another  canoe,  ex- 
actly its  counterpart  in  everything.     She  had  exactly 
imitated  his  motions,  and  they  were   side   by   side. 
They  at  once  pushed  out  from  shore  and  began  to  cross 
the  lake.     Its  waves  seemed  to  be  rising,  and  at  a  dis- 
tance looked  ready  to  swallow  them  up;  but  just  as 
they  entered  the  whitened  edge  of  them  they  seemed  to 
melt  away,  as  if  they  were  but  the  images  of  waves. 
But  no  sooner  was  one  wreath  of  foam  ))assed,  than  an- 
other, more  threatening  still,  rose  u[).     Thus  they  were 
in  perpetual  fear;  and  what  added  to  it,  was  the  ckar- 


226 


TUE  WHITE  STONE  CANOE. 


ness  of  the  water,  throui^li  which  they  could  see  heaps  of 
beiiif^s  who  had  perished  before,  and  vviiose  bones  lay 
strewed  on  the  bottom  of  the  lake.  The  Master  of 
Life  had,  however,  decreed  to  let  them  pass,  for  the  ac- 
tions of  neither  of  them  had  been  bad.  But  they  saw 
many  others  struggling  and  sinking  in  the  waves.  Old 
men  and  young  men,  males  and  females  of  all  ages  and 
ranks,  were  there;  some  passed,  and  some  sank.  It  was 
only  the  little  children  whose  canoes  seemed  to  meet  no 
waves.  At  length,  every  difficulty  was  gone,  as  in  a 
moment,  and  they  both  leaped  out  on  the  happy  island. 
They  felt  that  the  very  air  was  food.  It  strengthened 
and  nourished  them.  They  wandered  together  over  the 
blissful  fields,  where  everything  was  formed  to  please 
the  eye  and  the  ear.  There  were  no  tempests — there 
was  no  ice,  no  chilly  winds — no  one  shivered  for  the  want 
of  warm  clothes  :  no  one  suffered  for  hunger — no  one 
mourned  the  dead.  They  saw  no  graves.  They  heard 
of  no  wars.  There  was  no  hunting  of  animals ;  for  the 
air  itself  was  their  food.  Gladly  would  the  young  war- 
rior have  remained  there  forever,  but  he  was  obliged  to 
go  back  for  his  body.  He  did  not  see  the  Master  of 
Life,  but  he  heard  his  voice  in  a  soft  breeze.  "Go 
back,"  said  this  voice,  "to  the  land  from  whence  you 
come.  Your  time  has  not  yet  come.  The  duties  for 
which  I  made  you,  and  which  you  are  to  perform,  are 
not  yet  finished.  Return  to  your  people  and  accom- 
plish the  duties  of  a  good  man.  You  will  be  the  ruler 
of  your  tribe  for  many  days.  The  rules  you  must  ob- 
serve will  be  told  you  by  my  messenger,  who  keeps  the 
gate.  When  he  surrenders  back  your  body,  he  will  tell 
you  what  to  do.  Listen  to  him,  and  you  shall  after- 
wards reioin  the  spirit,  which  vou  must  now  ' 


spi 


yoi 


THE  WHITE  8TONE  CANOE. 


227 


hind.  She  is  accepted,  and  will  be  ever  here,  as  young 
and  as  happy  as  she  was  when  I  first  called  her  from 
the  land  of  snows."  When  this  voice  ceased,  the  nar- 
rator awoke.  It  was  the  fancy  work  of  a  dream,  and  he 
was  still  in  the  bitter  land  of  snows,  and  hunger,  and 
tears. 


% 


ONAIAZO,  THE  SKY-WALKEll. 


A  LEGEND  OF  A  VISIT  TO  THE  SUN. 


AN  OTTOWA  MYTH. 


A  LO\a  time  ago,  there  lived  an  aged  Odjibvva  and 
liis  wife,  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Huron.  They  had  an 
0!ily  son.  a  very  beautiful  boy,  whose  name  was  0-na- 
wut-a-qut-o,  or  he  that  catehesthe  clouds.  The  family 
were  of  the  totem  of  the  beaver.  The  parents  were 
very  proud  of  him,  and  thought  to  make  him  a  cele- 
brated man,  but  when  he  reached  the  proper  age,  he 
would  not  submit  to  the  We-koon-de-win,  or  fast. 
When  this  time  arrived,  they  gave  him  charcoal,  instead 
of  his  breakfast,  but  he  would  not  blacken  his  face.  If 
they  denied  him  food,  he  would  seek  for  birds'  eggs, 
along  the  shores,  or  pick  up  the  heads  of  fish  that  had 
been  cast  away,  and  broil  them.  One  day,  they  took 
away  violently  the  food  he  had  thus  prepared,  and  cast 
him  some  coals  in  phice  of  it.  This  act  brought  him 
to  a  decision.  He  took  the  coals  and  blackened  his 
face,  and  went  out  of  the  lodge.  He  did  not  return, 
but  slept  without ;  and  during  the  night,  he  had  a  dream. 
He  dreamed  that  he  saw  a  very  beautiful  female  come 
down  from  the  clouds  and  stand  by  his  side.  "  0-no- 
wut-a-nut-o."  said  she,  "  I  am  come  f 


y 


'P 


my  tracks."     The  young  man  ditl  so,  and  presently  felt 


ONAIAZO,  THE  SKY-V/ALKER;    a  LEGEM),  ETC.       229 


himself  ascending  above  the  tops  of  the  trees — he 
monnted  up,  step  by  step,  into  the  air,  and  tlirough 
the  clouds.  His  guide,  at  length,  passed  through  an 
orifice,  and  he,  following  her,  found  himself  standing 
on  a  beautiful  plain. 

A  path  led  to  a  splendid  lodge.  lie  followed  her 
into  it.  It  was  large,  and  divided  into  two  ])arts.  On 
one  end  he  saw  bows  and  arrows,  clubs  and  spears,  and 
various  warlike  implements  tipped  with  silver.  On  the 
other  end  were  things  exclusively  belonging  to  females. 
This  was  the  home  of  his  fair  guide,  and  he  saw  that 
she  had,  on  the  frame,  a  broad  rich  belt,  of  many  colors, 
which  she  was  weaving.  She  said  to  him  :  "  My  bro- 
ther is  coming  and  I  must  hide  you."  Putting  him  in 
one  corner,  she  spread  the  belt  over  him.  Presently 
the  brother  came  in,  very  richly  dressed,  and  shining 
as  if  he  had  points  of  silver  all  over  him.  He  took 
down  from  tl.e  wall  a  splendid  pipe,  together  with  his 
sack  of  a-pa-ko-ze-gun,  or  smoking  mixture.  When 
he  had  finished  regaling  himself  in  this  way,  and  laid 
his  pipe  aside,  he  said  to  his  sister:  "  Nemissa"  (which 
is,  my  elder  sister),  "  when  will  you  quit  these  practices  ? 
Do  you  forget  that  the  Greatest  of  the  Spirits  had  com- 
manded that  you  should  not  take  away  the  child  from 
below  ?  Perhaps  you  suppose  that  you  have  concealed 
0-no-wut-a-qut-o,  but  do  I  not  know  of  his  coming  ? 
If  you  would  not  offend  me,  send  him  back  immedi- 
ately." But  this  address  did  not  alter  her  purpose. 
Siie  would  not  send  him  back.  Finding  that  she  was 
purposed  in  her  mind,  he  then  spoke  to  the  young  lad, 
and  called  him  from  his  hiding-place.  **  Come  out  of 
your   concealment,"   said   he,    "and  walk   about   arjd 


amuse  yourself.     You  will  grow  hungry  if  you  renuii 
there."     Ho  then  presented  hiiu  a  bow  and   arrow; 
20 


n 


^ 


•    ■* 


230 


ONAIAZO,  THE  SKY-WALKER  j 


and  a  pipe  of  red  stone,  richly  ornamented.  This  was 
taken  as  tlie  word  of  consent  to  his  marriage  ;  so  the 
two  were  considered  husband  and  wife  from  that  time. 

0-no-wnt-a-qut-o  found  everything  exceedingly  fair 
and  beautiful  around  him,  but  he  found  no  inhabitants 
except  her  brother.  There  were  flowers  on  the  plains. 
There  were  bright  and  sparkling  streams.  There  were 
green  valleys  and  pleasant  trees.  There  were  gay  birds 
and  beautiful  animals,  but  they  were  not  such  us  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  see.  There  was  also  day  and  night, 
as  on  the  earth;  but  he  observed  that  every  morning 
the  brother  regularly  left  the  lodge,  and  remained 
absent  all  day  ;  and  every  evening  the  sister  departed, 
though  it  was  commonly  but  for  a  part  of  the  night. 

His  curiosity  was  aroused  to  solve  this  mystery.  He 
obtained  the  brother's  consent  to  accompany  him  in  one 
of  his  daily  journeys.  They  travelled  over  a  smooth 
plain,  without  boundaries,  until  0-no-wut-a-qut-o  felt 
the  gnawings  of  appetite,  and  asked  his  com[)anion  if 
there  were  no  game.  "  Patience  I  my  brother,"  said 
he,  "  we  shall  soon  reach  the  spot  where  I  eat  my  din- 
ner, and  you  will  then  see  how  I  am  provided.''  After 
walking  on  a  long  time,  they  came  to  a  place  which  was 
spread  over  with  line  mats,  where  they  sat  down  to 
refresh  themselves.  There  was,  at  this  place,  a  hole 
through  the  sky;  and  0-no-wut-a-(pit-o,  looked  down,  at 
the  bidding  of  his  companion,  upon  the  earth.  He 
saw  below  the  great  lakes,  and  the  villages  of  the  In- 
dians. In  one  place,  he  saw  a  war  party  stealing  on 
the  camp  of  their  enemies.  In  another,  he  saw  feast- 
ing and  dancing.  On  a  green  plain,  young  men  were 
engaged  at  ball.  Along  a  stream,  women  were  cm- 
ployed  in  gathering  the  a-puk-wa  for  nmts. 

"  Do  you  see,"  said  the  brother,  "  that  group  of 


i- 


'\ 


A  LEGEND  OP  A  VISIT  TO  THE  SUN. 


231 


r 


children  playing  beside  a  lodge  ?  Observe  that  beauti- 
ful and  active  boy,"  said  he,  at  the  same  time  darting 
something  at  him,  from  his  hand.  The  child  immedi- 
ately fell,  and  was  carried  into  the  lodge. 

They  looked  again,  and  saw  the  people  gathering 
about  the  lodge.  They  heard  the  she-she-gwun,  of  the 
meeta,  and  the  song  he  sung,  asking  that  the  child's 
life  might  be  spared.  To  this  request,  the  companion 
of  0  no-wut-a-qut-o  made  answer  :  "  Send  me  up  the 
sacrifice  of  a  white  dog."  Immediately  a  feast  was 
ordered  by  the  parents  of  the  child,  the  white  dog  was 
killed,  his  carcass  was  roasted,  and  all  the  wise  men  and 
medicine  men  of  the  village  assembled  to  witness  the 
ceremony.  "  There  are  many  below,"  continued  the 
voice  of  the  brother,  "  whom  you  call  great  in  medical 
skill,  but  it  is  because  their  ears  are  open,  and  thoy 
listen  to  my  voice,  that  they  are  able  to  succeed. 
When  I  have  lU <  'r  one  with  sickness,  they  direct  the 
people  to  look  t  .  <  ;  and  when  they  send  me  the  offer- 
ing I  ask,  I  remove  my  hand  from  off  them,  and  they  are 
well."  After  he  had  said  this,  they  saw  the  sacrifice 
parcelled  out  in  dishes,  for  those  who  were  at  the  feast. 
Tlie  master  of  the  feast  tlien  said,  '•  We  send  this  to 
thee,  great  Manito,"  and  immediately  the  roasted  ani- 
mal came  up.  Thus  their  dinner  was  snp[)lied,  and 
after  they  had  eaten,  they  returned  to  the  lodge  by  an- 
other way. 

After  this  manner  they  lived  for  some  time  ;  but  the 
place  becnme  wearisome  at  last.  0-no-wut-a-qut-o 
thought  of  his  fiiends,  and  wished  to  go  back  to  them. 
lie  had  not  forgotten  his  native  villnge,  and  his  father's 
lodge  ;  and  he  asked  leave  of  his  wife  to  return.  At 
lengtii  she  consented.  '*  Since  you  are  better  ))k'ased," 
she  replied,  "with  the  cares  and  the  ills,  and  the  poverty 


232         ONAIAZO,  TUE  SKY-WALKER  J  A  LEGEND,  ETC. 


of  the  world,  than  witli  the  peaceful  delights  of  the  sky, 
and  its  boundless  prairies,  go  I  I  give  you  permission, 
and  since  I  have  brought  you  hither,  I  will  conduct 
you  back  ;  but,  remember,  you  are  still  my  husband,  I 
hold  a  chain  in  my  hand  by  which  I  can  draw  you 
back  whenever  1  will.  My  power  over  you  is  not,  in 
any  manner,  diminished.  Beware,  therefore,  how  you 
venture  to  take  a  wife  among  the  people  below.  Should 
you  ever  do  so,  it  is  then  that  you  shall  feel  the  force  of 
my  displeasure." 

As  she  said  this,  her  eyes  sparkled — she  raised  her- 
self slightly  on  her  toes,  and  stretched  herself  up,  with 
a  majestic  air ;  and  at  that  moment,  0-no-wut-a-qut-o 
awoke  from  his  dream.  He  found  himself  on  the 
ground,  near  his  father's  lodge,  at  the  very  spot  where 
he  had  laid  himself  down  to  fast.  Instead  of  the  bright 
})eings  of  a  higher  world,  he  found  himself  surrounded 
by  his  parents  and  relatives.  Ilis  mother  told  him  he 
had  been  absent  a  year.  The  change  was  so  great, 
that  he  remained  for  some  time  moody  and  abstracted, 
but  by  degrees  he  recovered  his  spirits.  He  began  to 
doubt  the  reality  of  all  he  had  heard  and  seen  .above. 
At  last,  he  forgot  the  admonitions  of  his  spouse,  and 
married  a  beautiful  young  woman  of  his  own  tribe. 
Ijut  within  four  days,  she  was  a  corpse.  Even  this 
fearful  admonition  was  lost,  and  he  repeated  the  oflence 
by  a  second  marriage.  Soon  afterwards,  he  went  out 
of  the  lodge,  one  night,  but  never  returned.  It  was 
believed  that  his  Sun-wife  had  recalled  him  to  the 
region  of  the  clouds,  where,  the  tradition  asserts,  he  still 
dwells,  and  walks  on  the  daily  rounds,  which  he  once 
witnessed. 


BOSII-KWA-DOSII, 


OR 


THE  MASTODON. 


I 

f 


'n 


.4. 


There  was  once  a  man  who  found  himself  alone  in 
the  world.  He  knew  not  whence  he  came,  nor  who 
were  his  parents,  and  he  wandered  about  from  place  to 
place,  in  search  of  something.  At  last  he  became 
wearied  and  fell  asleep.  lie  dreamed  that  he  heard  a 
voice  saying,  "Xosis,"  that  is,  my  grandchild.  When 
he  awoke,  he  actually  heard  the  word  repeated,  and 
looking  around,  he  saw  a  tiny  little  animal  hardly  big 
enough  to  be  seen  on  the  plain.  While  doubting 
whether  the  voice  could  come  from  such  a  diminutive 
source,  the  little  animal  said  to  him,  "My  grandson,  you 
will  call  me  Bosh-kwa-dosh.  Why  are  you  so  desolate  ? 
Listen  to  me,  and  you  shall  find  friends  and  be  happy. 
You  must  take  me  up  and  bind  me  to  your  body,  and 
never  put  me  aside,  and  success  in  life  shall  attend 
you."  lie  obeyed  the  voice,  sewing  up  the  little 
animal  in  the  folds  of  a  string,  or  narrow  belt,  which 
ho  tied  around  his  body,  at  his  navel.  lie  then  set  out 
in  search  of  some  one  like  himself,  or  other  object.  lie 
walked  a  long  time  in  the  woods  without  seeing  man  or 
animal.  He  seemed  all  alone  in  the  world.  At  length 
he  came  to  a  place  where  a  stump  was  cut,  and  ou 
going  over  a  hill  he  descried  a  large  town  in  a  plain, 

20* 


:34 


BOSII-KWA-DOSH ;    OR, 


A  wide  road  led  through  the  middle  of  it;  but  what 
seemed  strange  was,  that  on  one  side  there  were  no  in- 
habitants in  the  lodges,  while  the  other  side  was  thickly 
inhabited.     He  walked  boldly  into  the  town. 

The  inhabitants  came  out  and  said:  "Why  here  is 
the  being  we  have  heard  so  much  of — here  is  Anish-in- 
j'l-ba.  See  his  eyes,  and  his  teeth  in  a  half  circle — see 
the  Wyaukenawbedaid  !  See  his  bowels,  how  they  are 
formed ;" — for  it  seems  they  could  look  through  him. 
The  king's  son,  the  Mudjekewis,  was  particularly  kind 
to  him,  and  calling  him  brother-in-law,  commanded 
that  he  should  be  taken  to  his  father's  lodge  and  re- 
ceived with  attention.  The  king  gave  him  one  of  his 
daughters.  These  people  (who  are  supposed  to  be 
human,  but  whose  rank  in  the  scale  of  being  is  left 
equivocal)  passed  much  of  their  time  in  play  and  sports 
and  trials  of  various  kinds.  When  some  time  had 
passed,  and  he  become  refreshed  and  rested,  he  was  in- 
vited to  join  in  these  sports.  The  first  test  which  they 
put  him  to,  was  the  trial  of  frost.  At  some  distance 
was  a  large  body  of  frozen  water,  and  the  trial  consisted 
in  lying  down  naked  on  the  ice,  and  seeing  who  could 
endure  the  longest.  He  went  out  with  two  young  men, 
who  began,  by  pulling  off  their  garments,  and  lying 
down  on  their  faces.  He  did  likewise,  only  keeping  on 
the  narrow  magic  belt  with  the  tiny  little  animal  sewed 
in  it ;  for  he  felt  that  in  this  alone  was  to  be  his  reliance 
and  preservation.  His  competitors  laughed  and  tittered 
during  the  early  part  of  the  night,  and  amused  them- 
selves by  thoughts  of  his  fate.  Once  they  called  out  to 
him,  but  he  made  no  reply.  He  felt  a  manifest  warmth 
given  out  by  his  belt.  About  midnight,  finding  they 
were  still,  he  called  out  to  them,  in  return,  "What!" 
said  he,  "are  you  benumbed  already?  I  am  but  just 


THE  MASTODON. 


235 


just 


beginning  to  feel  a  little  cold."  All  was  silence.  lie, 
however,  kept  his  position  till  early  day  break,  when  he 
got  up  and  went  to  them.  They  were  both  quite  dead, 
and  frozen  so  hard,  that  the  flesh  had  bursted  out  under 
their  finger  nails,  and  their  teeth  stood  out.  As  he 
looked  more  closely,  what  was  his  surprise  to  find  them 
both  transformed  into  buffalo  cows.  He  tied  them 
together,  and  carried  them  towards  the  village.  As  he 
came  in  sight,  those  who  had  wished  his  death  were 
disappointed,  but  the  Mudiek(^^'  '\  who  was  really  his 
friend,  rejoiced.  "Seel'  aiu  ,  "but  one  pei  *  ** 
approaches — it  is  my  brother-in-law."  He  then  threw 
down  the  carcasses  in  triumph,  but  it  was  found  that  by 
their  death  he  had  restored  two  inhabitants  to  the 
before  empty  lodges,  and  he  afterwards  perceived  that 
every  one  of  these  beings,  whom  he  killed,  had  the  like 
effect,  so  that  the  depopulated  part  of  the  village  soon 
became  filled  with  people. 

The  next  test  they  put  him  to,  was  the  trial  of  speed. 
He  was  challenged  to  the  race  ground,  and  began  iiis 
career  with  one  whom  he  thought  to  be  a  man ;  but 
everything  was  enchanted  here,  for  he  soon  discovered 
that  his  competitor  was  a  large  black  bear.  The  animal 
outran  him,  tore  up  the  ground,  and  sported  before 
him,  and  put  out  its  large  claws  as  if  to  frighten  him. 
He  thought  of  his  little  guardian  spirit  in  the  belt,  and 
wishing  to  have  the  swiftness  of  the  Kakake,  /.  e. 
sparrowhawk,  he  found  himself  rising  from  the  ground, 
and  with  the  speed  of  this  bird  he  outwent  his  rival, 
and  won  the  race,  while  the  bear  came  up  exhausted 
and  lolling  out  his  tongue.  His  friend  the  Mudjekewls 
stood  ready,  with  his  war-club,  at  the  goal,  and  Ihc 
moment  the  bear  came  up,  dispatched  him.  He  then 
turned  to  the  assembly,  who  had  wished  his  fi'i<'nd  and 


236 


BOSII-KWA-DOSH ;   OR, 


brother's  death,  and  after  reproaching  them,  he  lifted 
I'p  his  club  and  began  to  slay  them  on  every  side. 
They  fell  in  heaps  on  all  sides ;  but  it  was  plain  to  be 
seen,  the  moment  they  fell,  that  they  were  not  men,  but 
animals — foxes,  wolves,  tigers,  lynxes,  and  other  kinds, 
lay  thick  around  the  Mudjekewis. 

Still  the  villagers  were  not  satisfied.  They  thought 
the  trial  of  frost  had  not  been  fairly  accomplished,  and 
wished  it  repeated.  He  agreed  to  repeat  it,  but  being 
fatigued  with  the  race,  he  undid  his  gaurdian  belt,  and 
laying  it  under  his  head,  fell  asleep.  \Vhcn  he  awoke, 
he  felt  refreshed,  and  feeling  strong  in  his  own  strength, 
he  went  forward  to  renew  the  trial  on  the  ice,  but  quite 
forgot  the  belt,  nor  did  it  at  all  occur  to  him  when  he 
awoke,  or  when  he  lay  down  to  repeat  the  trial.  About 
midnight  his  limbs  became  stiff,  the  blood  soon  ceased 
to  circulate,  and  he  was  found  in  the  morning  a  stiff 
corpse.  The  victors  took  him  up  and  carried  him  to 
the  village,  where  the  loudest  tumult  of  victorious  joy 
was  made,  and  they  cut  his  body  into  a  thousand  pieces, 
that  each  one  might  eat  a  piece. 

The  Mudjekewis  bemoaned  his  fate,  but  his  wife  was 
inconsolable.  She  lay  in  a  state  of  partial  distraction, 
in  the  lodge.  As  she  lay  here,  she  thought  she  heard 
some  one  groaning.  It  was  repeated  through  the  night, 
and  in  the  morning  she  carefully  scanned  the  place, 
and  running  her  fingers  through  the  grass,  she  dis- 
covered the  secret  belt,  on  the  spot  where  her  husband 
had  last  reposed.  "Aubishin!"  cried  the  belt — that 
is,  untie  me,  or  unloose  me.  Looking  carefully,  she 
found  the  small  seam  which  inclosed  the  tiny  little  ani- 
mal. It  cried  out  the  more  earnestly,  "Aubishinl" 
and  when  she  had  carefully  ripped  the  scams,  she  beheld, 
to  her  surprise,  a  minute,  naked  little  beast,  smaller 


A' 
I 


t* 


THE  MASTODON. 


237 


m 


than  the  smallest  new-born  mouse,  without  any  vestige 
of  hair,  except  at  the  tip  of  its  ttiil ;  it  could  crawl  a 
few  inches,  but  reposed  from  fatigue.  It  then  went 
forward  again.  At  each  movement  it  would  pupowee, 
that  is  to  say,  shake  itself  like  a  dog,  and  at  each  shako 
it  became  larger.  This  it  continued  until  it  acquired 
the  strength  and  size  of  a  middle  sized  dog,  when  it 
ran  off. 

The  mysterious  dog  ran  to  the  lodges,  about  the  vil- 
lage, looking  for  the  bones  of  his  friend,  which  he 
carried  to  a  secret  place,  and  as  fast  as  he  found  them 
arranged  all  in  their  natural  order.  At  length  he  had 
formed  all  the  skeleton  complete,  except  the  heel  bone 
of  one  foot.  It  so  happened  that  two  sisters  were  out 
of  camp,  according  to  custom,  at  the  time  the  body 
was  cut  up,  and  this  heel  was  sent  out  to  them.  7'he 
dog  hunted  every  lodge,  and  being  satisfied  that  it  vvas 
not  to  be  found  in  the  camp,  he  sought  it  outside  of  it, 
and  found  the  lodge  of  the  two  sisters.  The  younger  sis- 
ter was  pleased  to  see  him,  and  admired  and  patted  the 
pretty  dog,  but  the  elder  sat  mumbling  the  very  heel- 
bone  he  was  seeking,  and  was  surly  and  sour,  and  re- 
pelled the  dog,  although  he  looked  most  wistfully  up  in 
her  face,  while  she  sucked  the  bone  from  one  side  of 
her  mouth  to  the  other.  At  last  she  held  it  in  such  a 
manner  that  it  made  her  cheek  stick  out,  when  the  dog, 
by  a  quick  spring,  seized  the  cheek,  and  tore  cheek 
and  bone  away  and  fled. 

He  now  completed  the  skeleton,  and  placing  him- 
self before  it,  uttered  a  hollow,  low,  long-drawn-out 
howl,  when  the  bones  came  compactly  together.  He 
then  modulated  his  howl,  when  the  bones  knit  together 
and  became  tense.  The  third  howl  brought  sinews 
upon  them,  and  the  fourth,  flesh.      He  then  turned  his 


238 


BOSII-KWA-DOSII;    OR,  THE  MASTODON. 


head  upwards,  looking  into  the  sky,  and  gave  a  howl, 


\ 


which 


3d 


the  vilh 


to  start)  ( 


cause( 

the  ground  itself  to  tremble,  at  which  the  breath  en- 
tered into  his  body,  and  he  first  breathed  and  then  arose. 
"Ilykow!"  I  have  overslept  myself,  he  exclaimed; 
"I  will  be  too  late  for  the  trial."  "  Trial  1"  said  Bosh- 
kwa-dosh,  "I  told  you  never  to  let  me  be  separate  from 
your  body,  you  have  neglected  this.  You  were  de- 
feated, and  your  frozen  body  cut  into  a  thousand  pieces, 
and  scattered  over  the  village;  but  my  skill  has  restored 
you.  Now  I  will  declare  myself  to  you,  and  show  who 
and  what  I  am!" 

He  then  began  to  pupowee,  or  shake  himself,  and 
at  every  shake,  he  grew.  His  body  became  heavy  and 
massy,  his  legs  thick  and  long,  with  big  clumsy  ends, 
or  feet.  He  still  shook  himself,  and  rose  and  sw^elled. 
A  long  snout  grew  from  his  head,  and  two  great  shin- 
ing teeth  out  of  his  mouth.  His  skin  remained  as  it 
was,  naked,  and  only  a  tuft  of  hair  grew  on  his  tail. 
He  rose  up  as  high  as  the  trees.  He  was  enormous. 
"  I  should  fill  the  earth,"  said  he,  "  w^ere  I  to  exert  my 
utmost  power,  and  all  there  is  on  the  earth  would  not 
satisfy  me  to  eat.  Neither  could  it  fatten  me  or  do  me 
good.  I  should  want  more.  The  Great  Spirit  created 
me  to  show  his  power  when  there  were  nothing  but  ani- 
mals on  the  earth.  But  were  all  animals  as  large  as  my- 
self, there  would  not  be  grass  enough  for  food.  But  the 
earth  was  made  for  man,  and  not  for  beasts.  I  give  some 
of  those  great  gifts  which  I  possess.  All  the  animals 
shall  be  your  food,  and  you  are  no  longer  to  flee  before 
them, and  be  their  sport  and  food."  So  saying,  he  walked 
off  with  heavy  steps  and  with  fierce  looks,  fxi  which  all 
the  little  animals  trembled. 


I  a  howl, 
[•tie,  and 
eath  en- 
en  arose. 
:claimed; 
id  Bosh- 
•ate  from 
were  de- 
id  pieces, 
restored 
how  who 


THE  SUN-CATCIIER, 


OR 


BOY   WHO   SETA   SNARE    FOR   THE    SUN. 


A  MYTH  OF  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  DORMOUSE. 


K-,t| 


iself,  and 
leavy  and 
nsy  ends, 
I  swelled, 
reat  shin- 
ned as  it 

his  tail, 
normous. 
exert  my 
rould  not 

or  do  me 
it  created 
5  but  ani- 
ge  as  my- 
But  the 
give  some 
animals 
lee  before 
lie  walked 

which  all 


FROM   THE   ODJIBWA. 


At  the  time  when  the  animals  reigned  in  the  earth, 
they  had  killed  all  but  a  girl,  and  her  little  brother, 
and  these  two  were  living  in  fear  and  seclusion.  The 
boy  was  a  perfect  pigmy,  and  never  grew  beyond  the 
stature  of  a  small  infant,  but  the  girl  increased  with  her 
years,  so  that  the  labor  of  providing  food  and  lodging 
devolved  wholly  on  her.  She  w^ent  out  daily  to  get 
wood  for  their  lodge-fire,  and  took  her  little  brother 
along  that  no  accident  might  happen  to  him  ;  for  he 
was  too  little  to  leave  alone.  A  big  bird  might  have 
flown  away  with  him.  She  made  him  a  bow  and  arrows, 
and  said  to  him  one  day,  *'  I  will  leave  you  behind 
Avhere  I  have  been  chopping — you  must  hide  yourself, 
and  you  will  soon  see  the  Gitshee-gitshee-gaun-ia-see- 
-ug,  or  snow  birds,  come  and  pick  the  worms  out  of  the 
wood,  where  I  have  been  chopping"  (for  it  was  in  the 
winter).  "  Shoot  one  of  them  and  bring  it  home."  lie 
obeyed  her,  and  tried  his  bCvSt  to  kill  one,  but  came 
home  unsuccessful.     She  told  him  he  must  not  despair, 


1 


,  1 


i    ! 


>  ! 


I   \ 


240 


THE  SUN  catcher;  or, 


but  try  ap:aiii  the  next  day.  She  accordingly  left  him 
at  the  place  she  got  wood,  and  returned.  Towards 
niglitfall,  she  heard  his  little  footsteps  on  the  snow,  and 
he  came  in  cxultingly,  and  threw  down  one  of  the  birds 
which  he  had  killed.  "  My  sister,"  said  he,  "  I  wish 
you  to  skin  it  and  stretch  the  skin,  and  when  I  have 
killed  more,  I  will  have  a  coat  made  out  of  them." 
"  But  what  shall  we  do  with  the  body  ?"  said  she,  for 
as  yet  men  had  not  begun  to  eat  animal  food,  but  lived 
on  vegetables  alone.  "Cut  it  in  two,"  he  answered, 
"  and  season  our  pottage  with  one  half  of  it  at  a  time." 
She  did  so.  The  boy,  who  was  of  a  very  small  stature, 
continued  his  efforts,  and  succeeded  in  killing  ten  birds, 
out  of  the  skins  of  which  his  sister  made  him  a  little 
coat. 

"  Sister,"  said  he  one  day,  "  are  we  all  alone  in  the 
world  ?  Is  there  nobody  else  living  ?"  She  told  him 
that  those  they  feared  and  who  had  destroyed  their  re- 
latives lived  in  a  certain  quarter,  and  that  he  must  by 
no  means  go  in  that  direction.  This  only  served  to 
inflame  his  curiosity  and  raise  his  ambition,  and  he 
soon  after  took  his  bow  and  arrows  and  went  in  that 
direction.  After  walking  a  long  time  and  meeting  no- 
thing, he  became  tired,  and  lay  down  on  a  knoll,  where 
the  sun  had  melted  the  snow.  He  fell  fast  asleep  ;  and 
while  sleeping,  the  sun  beat  so  hot  upon  him,  that  it 
singed  and  drew  up  his  bird- skin  coat,  so  that  when  he 
awoke  and  stretched  himself,  he  felt  bound  in  it,  as  it 
were.  He  looked  down  and  saw  the  damage  done  to 
his  coat.  He  flew  into  a  passion,  and  upbraided  the 
sun,  and  vowed  vengeance  against  it.  "  Do  not  think 
you  are  too  high,"  said  he,  "I  shall  revenge  myself." 

On  coming  home,  he  related  his  disaster  to  his  sis- 
ter, and  lamented  bitterly  the  spoiling  of  his  coat.    He 


BOY  WHO  SET  A  SNARE  FOIl  THE  SUN. 


241 


r  left  him 
Towards 
now,  and 
the  birds 

"I  wish 
n  I  have 
)f  them." 
d  she,  for 

but  lived 
answered, 
,t  a  time." 
ill  stature, 

ten  birds, 
m  a  little 

one  in  the 
3  told  him 
id  their  re- 
tie  must  by 
J  served  to 
on,  and  he 
3nt  in  that 
neeting  no- 
moll,  where 
isleep;  and 
him,  that  it 
lat  when  he 
1  in  it,  as  it 
age  done  to 
3braided  the 
>o  not  think 
;e  myself." 
r  to  his  sis- 
lis  coat.    He 


would  not  eat.  lie  lay  down  as  one  that  fasts,  and 
did  not  stir,  or  move  his  i)osition  for  ten  days,  though 
she  tried  all  she  could  to  arouse  him.  At  the  end  of 
ten  days,  he  turned  over,  and  then  lay  ten  days  on  the 
other  side.  When  he  got  up,  he  told  his  sister  to  make 
him  a  snare,  for  he  meant  to  catch  the  sun.  She  said 
she  had  nothing  ;  but  finally  recollected  a  little  piece  of 
dried  deer's  sinew,  that  her  father  had  left,  which  she 
soon  made  into  a  string  suitable  for  a  noose.  But  the 
moment  she  showed  it  to  him,  he  told  her  it  would  not 
do,  and  bid  her  get  something  else.  She  said  she  had 
nothing — nothing  at  all.  At  last  she  thought  of  her 
hair,  and  pulling  some  of  it  out  of  her  head,  made  a 
string.  But  he  instantly  said  it  would  not  answer,  and 
bid  her,  pettishly,  and  with  authority,  make  him  n, 
noose.  She  told  him  there  was  nothing  to  make  it  of, 
and  went  out  of  the  lodge.  She  said  to  herself,  when 
she  had  got  without  the  lodge,  and  while  she  was  all 
alone,  "neow  obewy  indapin."  From  my  body,  some 
will  I  take.  This  she  did,  and  twisting  them  into  a 
tiny  cord,  she  handed  it  to  her  brother.  The  moment 
he  saw  this  curious  braid,  he  was  delighted.  "  This 
will  do,"  he  said,  and  immediately  put  it  to  his  mouth 
and  began  pulling  it  through  his  lips  ;  and  as  fast  as 
he  drew  it  changed  it  into  a  red  metal  cord,  which  he 
wound  around  his  body  and  shoulders,  till  he  had  a 
large  quantity.  He  then  prepared  himself,  and  ^^^t  out 
a  little  after  midnight,  that  he  might  catch  the  bu:-  be- 
fore it  rose.  He  fixed  his  snare  on  a  spot  just  where 
the  sun  would  strike  the  land,  as  it  rose  above  the 
earth's  disk;  and  sure  enough,  he  caughu  ihe  sun,  so 
that  it  was  held  fast  in  the  cord,  and  did  not  rise.    " 

The  animals  who  ruled  the  earth  were  immediately 
put  into  a  great  commotion.     They  had  no  light.  They 
21 


\\ 


I  , 


24ii  THE  SUN  catcher;  or,  boy  who  set  a  snare,  etc. 

called  a  council  to  debate  upon  the  matter,  and  to  ap- 
point some  one  to  go  and  cut  the  cord — for  this  was  a 
very  hazardous  enterprise,  as  the  rays  of  the  sun  would 
burn  whoever  came  so  near  to  them.  At  last  the 
dormouse  undertook  it — for  at  this  time  the  dormouse 
was  the  largest  animal  in  the  world.  When  it  stood 
up  it  looked  like  a  mountain.  When  it  got  to  the  place 
where  the  sun  was  snared,  its  back  began  to  smoke  and 
burn  with  the  intensity  of  the  heat,  and  the  top  of  its 
carcass  was  reduced  to  enormous  heaps  of  ashes.  It 
succeeded,  however,  in  cutting  the  cord  with  its  teeth, 
and  freeing  the  sun,  but  it  was  reduced  to  a  very  small 
size,  and  has  remained  so  ever  since.  Men  call  it  the 
Kug-e-been-gwa-kwa — the  blind  woman. 


i 


HE,  ETC. 


to  ap- 
is was  a 
n  would 
last  the 
ormouse 
it  stood 
:he  place 
loke  and 
op  of  its 
;hes.     It 
its  teeth, 
ery  small 
lall  it  the 


m 

3 


AVA-WA-BE-ZO-WIX, 

OR 

THE  SWIXG  ox  THE  PICTL'RED  ROCKS  OF  LAKE 

SLPEllIOll. 

A   TRADITION    OF   THE   ODJIBWAS. 


There  was  an  old  hag  of  a  woman  living  with  her 
da\ighter-in-hi\v,  and  son,  and  a  little  or[)han  boy,  whom 


she 


•h 


home 


e  was  l)nnging  up.  vviien  ner  son-in-iaw  came 
from  hunting,  it  was  his  custom  to  bring  his  wife  the 
moose's  lip,  the  kidney  of  the  bear,  or  some  other  choice 
bits  of  dill'erent  animals.  These  she  would  cook  crisp, 
so  as  to  make  a  sound  with  her  teeth  in  eating  them. 
Tliis  kind  attention  of  the  hunter  to  his  wife  at  last 
excited  the  envy  of  the  old  woman.  Siie  wished  to 
have  the  same  luxuries,  and  in  order  to  get  them  she 
limilly  resolved  to  make  way  with  her  son's  wife.  One 
(lav,  she  asked  her  to  leave  her  infant  son  to  the  care 
of  the  or|)hi»n  boy,  and  come  out  and  swing  with  her. 
She  took  her  to  the  shore  of  a  lake,  where  there  was  a 
high  range  of  rocks  overhanging  the  water.  Upon  the 
top  of  this  rock,  she  erected  a  swing.  She  then  un- 
dressed, and  fastened  a  piece  of  leather  around  her 
body,  and  connnenced  swinging,  going  over  the  preci- 
pice at  every  swing.  Siie  continued  it  but  a  short 
linjc,  when  she  told  her  danuhter  to  do  the  same.     The 


244 


wa-wa-be-zo-win;  or, 


1^ 


I 


■ ' 


I 


ki 


P 


daughter  obeyed.  Slie  undressed,  and  tying  the  leather 
strhig  as  she  was  directed,  began  swinging.  When  the 
swing  liad  got  in  full  motion  and  well  a  going,  so  that 
it  went  clear  beyond  the  precipice  at  every  sweep,  the 
old  woman  slyly  cut  the  cords  and  let  her  daughter 
drop  into  the  lake.  She  then  put  on  her  daughter's 
clothing,  and  thus  disguised  went  home  in  the  dusk  of 
the  evening  and  counterfeited  her  appearance  and  duties. 
She  found  the  child  crying,  and  gave  it  the  breast,  but 
it  would  not  draw.  The  orphan  boy  asked  her  where 
its  mother  was.  She  answered,  "  She  is  still  swinging." 
He  said,  "  I  shall  go  and  look  for  her."  "No  1"  said 
she,  "you  must  not — what  should  you  go  for?"  When 
the  husband  came  in,  in  the  evening,  he  gave  the  covet- 
ed morsel  to  his  supposed  wife,  lie  missed  his  mother- 
in-law,  but  said  nothing.  She  eagerly  ate  the  dainty, 
and  tried  to  keep  the  child  still.  The  husband  looked 
rather  astonished  to  see  his  wife  studiously  averting  her 
face,  and  asked  her  why  the  child  cried  so.  She  said, 
she  did  not  know — that  it  would  not  draw. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  orphan  boy  went  to  the  lake 
shores,  and  found  no  one.  He  mentioned  his  suspicions, 
and  while  the  old  woman  was  out  getting  wood,  he  told 
him  all  he  had  heard  or  seen.  The  man  then  painted 
his  face  black,  and  placed  his  spear  upside  down  in  the 
earth,  and  recpicsled  the  Great  Spirit  to  send  lightning, 
thunder,  and  rain,  in  the  hope  that  the  body  of  his  wife 
might  arise  from  the  water.  He  then  began  to  fast, 
and  told  the  boy  to  take  the  cl  Id  and  play  on  the  lake 
shore. 

We  must  now  go  back  to  the  swing.  After  the  wife 
had  plunged  into  the  lake,  she  found  herself  taken  hold 
of  by  a  water-tiger,  whose  tall  twisted  itself  round  her 
body,  and  drew  her  to  tlie  bottom.     There  she  found  a 


SWING  ON  THE  nCTURED  ROCKS  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR.     245 

fine  lodge,  and  all  things  ready  for  lier  reception,  and 
she  became  the  wife  of  the  water-tiger.  Whilst  the 
children  were  playing  along  the  shore,  and  the  boy  was 
casting  pebbles  into  the  lake,  he  saw  a  gull  coming 
from  its  centre,  and  flying  towards  the  shore,  and  when 
on  shore,  the  bird  immediately  assumed  the  human 
shape.  When  he  looked  again,  he  recognized  the  lost 
mother.  She  had  a  leather  belt  around  her  loins,  and  an- 
other belt  of  white  metal,  which  was,  in  reality,  the  tail 
of  the  water-tiger,  her  husband.  She  suckled  the  babe, 
and  said  to  the  boy — "Come  herewith  him,  whenever 
he  cries,  and  I  will  nurse  him." 

The  boy  carried  the  child  home,  and  told  these  things 
to  the  father.  When  the  .?hild  again  cried,  the  father 
went  also  with  the  boy  to  the  lake  shore,  and  hid  him- 
self in  a  clump  of  trees.  Soon  the  appearance  of  a  gull 
was  seen,  with  a  long  shining  belt,  or  chain,  and  as 
soon  as  it  came  to  the  shore,  it  assumed  the  mother's 
shape,  and  she  began  to  suckle  the  child.  The  husband 
had  brought  along  his  spear,  and  seeing  the  shining 
chain,  he  boldly  struck  it  and  broke  the  links  apart. 
lie  then  took  his  wife  and  child  home,  with  the  or[)han 
boy.  When  they  entered  the  lodge,  the  old  woman 
looked  u|),  but  it  was  a  look  of  despair ;  she  instantly 
dropi)od  her  head.  A  rustling  was  heard  in  the  lodge, 
and  tiie  next  moment  she  lea[)e(l  up  and  (lew  out  of  the 
loiige,  and  was  never  heard  of  more. 


21* 


i 


\\ 


MUKAKEE  MINDEMOEA, 


If 


OR 


THE    TOAD-WOMAN 


AN   OD.IIBWA   LEGEND. 


)t 


P 


^ 


»i 


I 


i 


s 


Great  good  luck  once  happened  to  a  young  woman 
who  was  living  all  alone  in  the  woods,  with  nobody 
near  her  but  her  little  dog,  for,  to  her  surprise,  she 
found  fresh  meat  every  morning  at  her  door.  She  felt 
very  anxious  to  know  who  it  was  that  supplied  her,  and 
watching  one  morning,  very  early,  she  saw  a  handsome 
young  man  deposit  the  meat.  After  his  being  seen  by 
her,  he  became  her  husband,  and  she  had  a  son  by  him. 
One  day,  not  long  after  this,  the  man  did  not  return  at 
evening,  as  usual,  from  hunting.  She  waited  till  late  at 
night,  but  all  in  vain.  Next  day  she  swung  her  baby 
to  sleep  in  its  tiken;igun,  or  cradle,  and  then  said  to  her 
dog :  "  Take  care  of  your  brother  whilst  I  am  gone,  and 
when  he  cries,  halloo  for  me."  Tiie  cradle  was  made  of 
the  Guest  wampum,  and  all  its  bandages  and  decorations 
v/ere  of  tlie  same  costly  material.  After  a  short  time, 
the  woman  heard  the  cry  of  her  faithful  dog,  and  run- 
ning home  as  fast  as  she  could,  she  found  her  child  gone 
and  the  dog  too.  I5ut  on  looking  round,  she  saw  pieces 
of  the  wiim[)um  of  her  child's  cradh;  bit  oif  by  the  dog, 
who  strov(»  to  retain  the  child  and  prevent  his  being 


i 


MUIvAKEE  MINDEMOEA;    OK,  THE  TOAD-WUMAN.       2-t7 


..K- 

M 


liSF 


carried  olF  by  an  old  woman  called   Mukakee  Minde- 
moea,  or  the  Toad- Woman.     The  mother  followed  at 
full  si)ecd,  and  occasionally  came  to  lodj:^es  inhabited  by 
old  women,  who  told  her  at  what  time  the  thief  had 
passed  ;  they  also  gave  her  shoes,  that  she  might  follow 
on.     There  were  a  numher  of  these   old  women,  who 
seemed  as  if  they  were  all  prophetesses.     Each  of  them 
would  say  to  her,  that  when  she  arrived  in  pursuit  of 
lier  stolen  child  at  the  next  lodge,  she  must  set  the  toes 
of  the  moccasins  they  had  loaned  her  pointing  home- 
wards, and   they  would   return  of   themselves.      She 
would  get  others  from  her  entertainers  further  on,  who 
would  also  give  her  directions  how  to  proceed  to  re- 
cover her  son.     She  thus  followed  in  the  pursuit,  from 
valley  to  valley,  and  stream  to  stream,  for  nionths  and 
years  ;  when  she  came,  at  length,  to  the  lodge  of  the 
last  of  the  friendly  old  Xococs,  or  grandmothers,  as 
they  were  called,  who  gave  her  final  instructions  how 
to  proceed.     She  told  her  she  was  near  the  place  where 
her  son  was,  and  directed  her  to  build  a  lodge  of  shin- 
goob,  or  cedar  boughs,  near  the  old  Toad-Woman's 
lodge,  and  to  make  a  little  bark  dish  and  squeeze  her 
milk  into  it.    "  Then,"  she  said,  "  your  first  child  (mean- 
ing the  dog)  will  come  and    find  you  out."     She  did 
accordingly,  and  in  a  short  time  she  heard  her  son,  now 
grown,  going  out  to  hunt,  witli  his  dog,  calling  out  to 
him,  **  Moncdo  Pewaubik  (that  is,  Steel  or  Spirit  Iron), 
Twee  !  Twee  !"     She  then  set  ready  the  dish  and  filled 
it  with  her  milk.     The  dog  soon  scented  it  and  camo 
into  the  lodge  ;  she  i)laced  it  before  him.     "  See,  my 
child,"  said  she,  addressing  him,  "the  food  you  used  to 
luive  from  me,  your  mother."     The  dog  went  and  told 
his  young  master  that  lie  had  found  his  real  mother; 
itiid  informed  him  tlmt  llic  nM  WMiii;n),  whom  he  <•////<•</ 


248 


MUKAKEE  MINDExMOEA ;    OR, 


n 


his  mother,  was  not  his  mother,  that  she  had  stolen  him 
when  an  infant  in  his  oradlc,  and  that  he  had  himself 
followed  her  in  hopes  of  getting  him  back.  The  young 
man  and  his  dog  then  went  on  their  hunting  excursion, 
and  brought  back  a  great  quantity  of  meat  of  all  kinds. 
He  said  to  his  pretended  mother,  as  he  laid  it  down, 
"  Send  some  to  the  stranger  that  has  arrived  lately." 
The  old  hag  answered,  "No  1  why  should  I  send  to 
her — the  Sheegowish."*  He  insisted  ;  and  she  at  last 
consented  to  take  something,  throwing  it  in  at  the  door, 
with  the  remark,  "My  son  gives  you,  or  feeds  you  this." 
But  it  was  of  such  on  offensive  nature  that  she  threw 
it  immediately  out  after  her. 

After  this  the  young  man  paid  the  stranger  a  visit, 
at  her  lodge  of  cedar  boughs,  and  partook  of  her  dish 
of  milk.  She  then  told  him  she  was  his  real  mother, 
and  that  he  had  been  stolen  away  from  her  by  the  de- 
testable Toad-Woman,  who  was  a  witch.  He  was  not 
quite  convinced.  She  said  to  him,  "  Feign  yourself 
sick,  when  you  go  home,  and  when  the  Toad-Woman 
asks  what  ails  you,  say  that  you  want  to  see  your  cra- 
dle ;  for  your  cradle  was  of  wampum,  and  your  faithful 
brother,  the  dog,  bit  a  piece  off  to  try  and  detain  you, 
which  I  picked  up,  as  I  followed  in  your  track.  They 
were  real  wampum,  white  and  blue,  shining  and  beau- 
tiful." She  then  showed  him  the  pieces.  He  went 
home  and  did  as  his  real  mother  bid  him.  "  Mother," 
said  he,  **  why  am  I  so  different  in  my  looks  from  the 
rest  of  your  children?"  "Oh,"  said  she,  "  it  was  a 
very  bright  clear  blue  sky  when  you  were  born  ;  that  is 
the  reason."     AVhen  the  Toad-Woman  saw  he  was  ill, 

*  A  t(>nn  coiiipoundecl  from  sIu'c(jon-isi^,  a  widow,  aiul  mnirlijh, 
Homotliiug  nasty. 


THE  TOAD-WOMAN. 


249 


H 


slic  asked  what  she  coiiUl  do  for  him.  He  said  nothing 
would  do  him  good,  but  the  sight  of  liis  cradle.  She 
ran  immediately  a!id  got  a  cedar  cradle  ;  but  he  said 
"  That  is  not  my  cradle."  She  went  and  irot  one  of 
her  own  children's  cradles  (for  she  had  four),  but  he 
turned  his  head  and  said,  "  That  is  not  mine."  She 
then  produced  the  real  cradle,  and  he  saw  it  was  the 
same,  in  substance,  with  the  pieces  the  other  had  shown 
him  ;  and  he  was  convinced,  for  he  could  even  see  the 
marks  of  the  dog's  teeth  upon  it. 

He  soon  got  well,  and  went  out  hunting,  and  killed 
a  fat  bear.  lie  and  his  dog-brother  then  stripped  a 
tall  pine  of  all  its  branches,  and  stuck  the  carcass  on 
the  top,  taking  the  usual  sign  of  his  having  killed  an 
animal — the  tongue.  He  told  the  Toad-Woman  where 
he  had  left  it,  saying,  "  It  is  very  far,  even  to  the  end 
of  the  earth."  She  answered,  "It  is  not  so  far  but  I 
can  get  it ;"  so  off  she  set.  A  soon  as  she  was  gone, 
the  young  man  and  his  dog  killed  the  Toad-Woman's 
children,  and  staked  them  on  each  side  of  the  door, 
with  a  piece  of  fat  in  their  mouths,  and  then  went  to 
his  real  mother  and  hastened  her  departure  with  them. 
The  Toad-Woman  spent  a  long  time  in  flnding  thebear, 
and  had  much  ado  in  climbing  the  tree  to  get  down  the 
carcass.  As  she  got  near  home,  she  saw  the  children 
looking  out,  a[)parently,  with  the  fat  i'l  their  mouths, 
and  was  angry  at  them,  saying,  "Why  do  you  destroy 
the  i)omatum  of  your  brother  ?"  But  her  fury  was  great 
indeed,  when  she  saw  they  were  killed  and  impaled. 
She  ran  after  the  fugitives  as  fast  as  she  could,  and  was 
near  overtaking  them,  when  the  young  man  said,  "  We 
are  pressed  hard,  but  let  this  stay  her  progress,"  throw- 
ing his  lire  steel  behind  him,  which  caused  the  Toad- 
Woman  to  slip  and  fall  repeatedly.     IJut  still  she  pur- 


r 


f 
(» 


250        MUKAKEE  MINDEMOEA  ;    OR,  THE  TOAD- WOMAN. 

sued  and  p:alned  on  them,  wlien  he  threw  behind  him 
liis  Hint,  which  attain  retarded  her,  for  it  made  her  slip 
and  stumble,  so  that  her  knees  were  bleeding  ;  but  she 
continued  to  follow  on,  and  was  j^aininp^  ground,  when 
the  young  man  said,  "  Let  the  Oshau  shaw  f;o  min  un 
(snake  berry)  spring  up  to  detain  her,"  and  immedi- 
ately these  berries  spread  like  scarlet  all  over  the  path 
for  a  long  distance,  which  she  could  not  avoid  stoo[)ing 
down  to  pick  and  eat.  Still  she  went  on,  and  was 
again  advancing  on  them,  when  the  young  man  at  last 
said  to  the  dog,  "  Brother,  chew  her  into  mummy,  for 
she  plagues  us."  So  the  dog,  turning  round,  seized 
her  and  tore  her  to  pieces,  and  they  escaped. 


.  ^ 


MAN. 

nd  Uira 
lier  slip 
but  slie 
d,  when 
min  un 
immedi- 
tlie  path 
stooping 
and  was 
in  at  last 
mniv,  for 
,d,  seized 


ERONENIEUA, 


OB 


AN  INDIAN  VISIT  TO  THE  GREAT  SPIRIT.* 


AX  ALGONQUIN   LEGEND. 


A  Delaware  Indian,  called  Eroncniera,  anxious  to 
know  the  Master  of  Life,  resolved,  without  mentioninj^ 
his  design  to  any  one,  to  undertake  a  journey  to  Para- 
dise, which  he  knew  to  be  God's  residence.  13ut,  to 
succeed  in  his  project,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to 
know  the  way  to  the  celestial  regions.  Not  knowing 
any  person  who,  having  been  there  himself,  might  aid 
him  in  finding  tlie  road,  he  commenced  juggling,  in  the 
hope  of  drawing  a  good  augury  from  his  dream. 

The  Indian,  in  his  dream,  imagined  that  he  had  only 
to  commence  his  journey,  and  that  a  continued  walk 
would  take  him  to  the  celestial  abode.  The  next  morn- 
ing very  early,  he  ecpiipped  himself  as  a  hunter,  taking 
a  gun,  powder-horn,  ammunition,  and  a  boiler  to  cook 
his  provisions.  The  first  part  of  his  journey  was  pretty 
favorable ;  he  walked  a  long  time  without  being  dis- 

*  Pontiac  told  this  story  to  tlio  nssoml»l(vl  Indians  in  17<>'^, 
to  enlist  tlioni  in  liis  j>lan  to  rosist  the  transfer  of  tlir  country 
to  the  Kn^lish  authority,  on  the  fall  of  the  French  power  in 
tlie  Canada.s. 


252 


eronemeha;  or, 


I  » 


courai^cd,  liavinj^  always  a  firm  conviction  that  ho 
sliouhl  attain  his  aim.  Ei^ht  chip's  liad  already  elapsed 
without  his  meeting  with  any  one  to  oppose  his  desire. 
On  the  evenin*]^  of  the  ei<i:hth  day,  at  sunset,  he  stopped 
as  uM«I  on  the  bank  of  a  brook,  at  the  entrance  of  a 
little  prairie,  a  place  which  he  thought  favorable  for  his 
night's  encampment.  As  he  was  preparing  his  lodging, 
lie  perceived  at  the  othv^r  c!id  of  the  })rairie  three  very 
wide  and  well-beaten  paths ;  he  thought  this  somewhat 
singular;  he,  however,  continued  to  prepare  his  wig- 
wam, that  lie  might  shelter  himself  from  the  weather, 
lie  also  lighted  a  fire.  While  cooking,  he  found  that, 
the  darker  it  grew,  the  more  distinct  were  those  paths. 
This  suri)rised,  nay,  even  frightened  him;  he  hesitated 
a  few  moments.  Was  it  better  for  him  to  remain  in 
his  camp,  or  seek  another  at  some  distance?  While  in 
this  incertitude,  he  remembered  his  juggling,  or  rather 
his  dream.  lie  thought  that  his  only  aim  in  undertak- 
ing his  journey  was  to  see  the  Master  of  Life.  This 
restored  him  to  his  senses.  He  thought  it  i)robable 
that  one  of  those  three  roads  led  to  the  place  which  he 
wished  to  visit.  He  therefore  resolved  upon  remaining 
ill  his  camp  until  the  morrow,  when  he  would,  at  ran- 
dom, take  one  of  them.  His  curiosity,  however,  scarce- 
ly allowed  him  time  to  take  his  meal ;  he  left  his  en- 
campment and  fire,  and  took  the  widest  of  the  paths.  lie 
followed  it  until  the  middle  of  the  day  without  seeing 
anything  to  impede  his  progress;  but,  as  he  was  rest- 
ing a  little  to  take  breath,  he  suddenly  perceived  a 
large  fire  coming  from  under  ground.  It  excited  his 
curiosity ;  he  went  towards  it  to  see  what  it  might  be ; 
but,  as  the  fire  appeared  to  increase  as  he  drew  nearer, 
he  was  so  overcome  with  fear,  that  he  turned  back  and 
took  the  widest  of  the  other  two  paths.     Having  fol- 


AN  INDIAN  VISIT  TO  THE  GREAT  SIMRIT. 


263 


3tion   tlmt  lio 
I  ready  clupscd 
)se  his  desire. 
2t,  he  stopped 
entrance  of  a 
oral)le  for  liis 
^  liis  lodging:, 
rie  three  very 
his  somewhat 
lare  his  wij^- 
the  weather, 
e  found  that, 
those  patlis. 
he  hesitated 
to  remain  in 
J?    While  in 
ng,  or  rather 
in  nndertak- 
Life.     This 
it  i)rol)able 
ice  which  he 
n  remain inir 
uhl,  at  ran- 
)ver,  scarce- 
left  his  en- 
paths.    Ho 
hont  secinjr 
e  was  rest- 
lerceived  a 
excited  his 
might  be ; 
'ew  nearer, 
I  back  and 
aving  fol- 


..•?)> 


lowed  it  for  the  same  space  of  time  as  he  had  the  first, 
he  perceived  a  similar  spectacle.  His  fright,  which  liad 
been  lulled  by  the  change  of  road,  awoke  him,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  take  the  third  path,  in  which  he  walked 
a  whole  day  without  seeing  anything.  All  at  once,  a 
mountain  of  a  marvellous  whiteness  burst  upon  his  sight. 
This  filled  him  with  astonishment;  nevertheless,  he  took 
courage  and  advanced  to  examine  it.  Having  arrived 
at  the  foot,  he  saw  no  signs  of  a  road.  He  beca  le 
very  sad,  not  knowing  how  to  continue  his  journey.  In 
this  conjuncture,  he  looked  on  all  sides  and  ])erceived  a 
female  seated  upon  the  mountain ;  lier  beaiity  was  daz- 
zling, and  llie  whiteness  of  her  garments  surpassed  that 
of  snow.  The  woman  said  to  hira  in  his  own  language, 
"You  appear  surprised  to  find  no  longer  a  path  to 
reach  your  wishes.  I  know  that  you  have  for  a  long 
time  longed  to  sec  and  speak  to  the  Master  of  Life ; 
and  that  you  have  undertaken  this  journey  purposely  to 
see  him.  The  way  which  leads  to  bis  abode  is  upon 
this  mountain.  To  ascend  it,  you  must  undress  your- 
self completely,  and  leave  all  your  accoutrements  and 
clothing  at  the  foot.  No  person  shall  injure  them. 
You  will  then  go  and  wash  yourself  in  the  river  which 
I  am  now  showing  you,  and  afterward  ascend  the  moun- 
tain." 

The  Indian  obeyed  punctually  the  woman's  words ; 
but  one  difliculty  remained.  How  could  he  arrive  at 
the  top  of  the  mountain,  which  was  steep,  without  a 
path,  and  as  smooth  as  glass  ?  He  asked  the  woman 
how  he  was  to  accomplish  it.  She  replied,  that  if  he 
really  wished  to  see  the  Master  of  Life,  he  must,  in 
mounting,  only  use  his  left  hand  and  foot.  This  ap- 
peared almost  impossible  to  the  Indian.  Encouraged, 
however,  by  the  female,  he  commenced  ascending,  and 
22 


254 


eroneniera;  or, 


if 


i 


i4i 


'  I 


>  ,tj 


i  \ 


I 


succeeded  after  imicli  trouble.  Wlien  at  tlie  top,  he 
was  astonished  to  see  no  ])erson,  tlie  woman  having 
disappeared.  lie  found  lumself  alone,  and  without  a 
guide.  Three  unknown  villages  were  in  sight;  they 
were  constructed  on  a  different  plan  from  his  own, 
much  handsomer,  and  more  regular.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments' reflection,  he  took  his  way  towards  the  hand- 
somest. When  about  half  way  from  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  he  recollected  that  he  was  naked,  and  was 
afraid  to  proceed;  but  a  voice  told  him  to  advance,  and 
have  no  apprehensions ;  that,  as  he  had  washed  himself, 
he  might  walk  in  confidence.  He  proceeded  without 
hesitation  to  a  place  which  appeared  to  be  the  gate  of 
the  village,  and  stopped  until  some  one  came  to  open 
it.  While  he  was  considering  the  exterior  of  the  vil- 
lage, the  gate  opened,  and  the  Indian  saw  coming 
towards  him  a  handsome  man  dressed  all  in  white,  who 
took  him  by  the  hand,  and  said  he  was  going  to  satisfy 
his  wishes  by  leading  him  to  the  presence  of  the  Mas- 
ter of  Life. 

The  Indian  suffered  himself  to  be  conducted,  and 
they  arrived  at  a  place  of  unequalled  beauty.  The  In- 
dian was  lost  in  admiration.  He  there  saw  the  Master 
of  life,  who  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  gave  him  for  a 
seat  a  hat  bordered  with  gold.  The  Indian,  afraid  of 
spoiling  the  hat,  hesitated  to  sit  down;  but,  being 
again  ordered  to  do  so,  he  obeyed  without  reply. 

The  Indian  being  seated,  God  said  to  him,  "I  am 
the  Master  of  Life,  whom  thou  wishest  to  see,  and  to 
whom  thou  wishest  to  speak.  Listen  to  that  which  I 
will  tell  thee  for  thyself  and  for  all  the  Indians.  I  am 
the  Maker  of  Heaven  and  earth,  the  trees,  lakes,  rivers, 
men,  and  all  that  thou  seest  or  hast  seen  on  the 
earth  or  in  the  heavens;  and  because  I  love  you,  you 


AN  INDIAN  VISIT  TO  THE  GREAT  SPIRIT. 


255 


at  tlie  top,  hi: 
voman  having 
and  without  a 
in  sight;  they 
from  his  own, 
iter  a  few  mo- 
Tds  the  hand- 
he  top  of  the 
akcd,  and  was 
3  advance,  and 
ashed  himself, 
;eeded  witiiont 
be  tlie  gate  of 
!  came  to  open 
rior  of  the  vii- 
[1  saw  coming 
in  white,  who 
oing  to  satisfy 
:e  of  the  Mas- 

onducted,  and 
uty.  The  In- 
aw  the  Master 

ave  him  for  a 
dian,  afraid  of 
n;  but,  being 

t  reply. 

0  him,  "I  am 
to  see,  and  to 
that  which  I 
ndians.     I  am 

,  lakes,  rivers, 
seen   on   the 

love  you,  you 


*^..  • 


must  do  my  will;  you  must  also  avoid  Jiat  which  I 
hate;  I  hate  you  to  drink  as  you  do,  until  you  lose 
your  reason;  I  wish  you  not  to  fight  one  another;  you 
take  two  wives,  or  run  after  other  people's  wives ;  you 
do  wrong;  I  hate  such  conduct;  you  should  have  but 
one  wife,  and  keep  her  until  death.  When  you  go  to 
war,  you  juggle,  you  sing  the  medicine  song,  thinking 
you  speak  to  rae;  you  deceive  yourselves;  it  is  to  the 
Manito  that  you  speak ;  he  is  a  wicked  spirit  who  in- 
duces you  to  evil,  and  for  want  of  knowing  me,  you 
listen  to  him. 

"The  land  on  which  you  are,  I  have  made  for  you, 
not  for  others:  wherefore  do  you  suffer  the  whites  to 
dwell  upon  your  lands?  Can  you  not  do  without  them? 
I  know  that  those  whom  you  call  the  children  of  your 
great  Father  sui)]>ly  your  wants.  But,  were  you  not 
wicked  as  you  are,  you  would  not  need  them.  You 
might  live  as  you  did  before  you  knew  them.  Before 
those  whom  you  call  your  brothers  had  arrived,  did  not 
your  bow  and  arrow  maintain  you  ?  You  needed 
neither  gun,  powder,  nor  any  other  object.  The  flesh 
of  animals  was  your  food,  their  "skins  your  raiment. 
But  when  I  saw  you  inclined  to  evil,  I  removed  the  ani- 
mals into  the  depths  of  the  forests,  that  you  might 
dei>end  on  your  brothers  for  your  necessaries  for  your 
clothing.  Again  become  good  and  do  my  will,  and  I 
will  send  animals  for  your  sustenance.  I  do  not,  how- 
ever, forl)id  suffering  among  you  your  Father's  children ; 
I  love  them,  they  know  me,  they  pray  to  me;  I  supply 
their  own  wants,  and  give  them  that  which  they  bring  to 
you.  Xot  so  with  those  who  are  come  to  trouble  your 
possessions.  Drive  them  away ;  wage  war  agaiiist  them. 
I  love  them  not.  They  know  me  not.  They  are  my 
enemies,  they  are  your  brothers'  enemies.      Send  them 


II 


:ii 


in 


I. 

n 


\*> 


h 


256 


eroneniera;  or, 


V 


back  to  the  lands  I  have  made  for  them.      Let  them 
remain  there. 

"Here  is  a  Avritten  prayer  which  I  give  thee  ;  learn 
it  by  heart,  and  teach  it  to  all  the  Indians  and  children 
(The  Indian,  observing  here  that  he  could  not  read, 
the  Master  of  Life  told  him  that,  on  his  return  upon 
earth,  he  should  give  it  to  the  chief  of  his  village,  who 
would  read  it,  and  also  teach  it  to  him,  as  also  to  all 
the  Indians).  "It  must  be  repeated,"  said  the  Master 
of  Life,  "  morning  and  evening.  Do  all  that  I  have  told 
thee,  and  announce  it  to  all  the  Indians  as  coming  from 
the  Master  of  Life.  Let  them  drink  but  one  draught, 
or  two  at  most,  in  one  day.  Let  them  have  but  one 
wife,  and  discontinue  running  after  other  people's  wives 
and  daughters.  Let  them  not  Oght  one  another.  Let 
them  not  sing  the  medicine  song,  for  hi  singing  the 
medicine  song  they  speak  to  the  evil  spirit.  Drive 
from  your  lands,"  added  the  Master  of  Life,  "those 
dogs  in  red  clothing ;  they  are  only  an  injury  to  you. 
When  you  want  anything,  ap})ly  to  me,  as  your  brothers 
do,  and  I  will  give  to  l)oth.  Do  not  sell  to  your  bro- 
thers that  whicli  I  have  placed  on  the  earth  as  food. 
In  short,  become  good,  and  you  shall  want  nothing. 
When    you    meet   one   another,   ])0w,   and   give   one 

another  the hand  of  the  heart.    Above  all,  I 

command  thee   to  repeat,  morning   and   evening,  the 
prayer  which  I  have  given  thee.'" 

The  Indian  promised  to  do  the  will  of  the  Master 
of  Life,  and  also  to  recommend  it  strongly  to  the 
Indians;  adding  that  the  Master  of  Life  should  be 
satisfied  wit'<  them. 

His  conductor  then  came,  and  leading  him  to  the 
foot  of  the  ninimtain,  told  him  to  take  his  ganruMits  nnd 


t 


tlL. 


AN  INDIAN  VISIT  TO  THE  GREAT  SPIRIT. 


257 


Q.     Let  them 

e  tbee  ;  learn 
and  children." 
uld  not  read, 
\  return  upon 
s  village,  who 

as  also  to  all 
lid  the  Master 
at  I  have  told 
3  coming  from 
t  one  draught, 
have  but  one 
people's  wives 
another.  Let 
II  singing  the 
spirit.      Drive 

Life,  "  those 
injury  to  you. 

your  brothers 
1  to  vour  bro- 

iirth  as  food. 

ivant  nothing, 

ind   give   one 

Above  all,  I 

evening,  the 

)f  the  Master 
rongly  to  the 
ife  should  be 


return  to  his  village ;  which  was  immediately  done  by 
the  Indian. 

His  return  much  surprised  the  inhabitants  of  the  vil- 
lage, who  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  him. 
Tiiey  asked  him  whence  he  came ;  but,  as  he  had  been 
enjoined  to  speak  to  no  one  until  he  saw  the  chief  of 
the  village,  he  motioned  to  them  with  his  hand  that  he 
came  from  above.  Having  entered  the  village,  he  went 
immediately  to  the  chief's  wigwam,  and  delivered  to  him 
the  prayer  and  laws  intrusted  to  his  care  by  the  Master 
of  Life. 


g  him  to  the 
ii:arnu'nts  and 


22* 


';^ 


.i 


If 


li 


t 


>t 


i. 


TPIE  SIX  HAWKS, 


OB 


BROKEN  WING. 


AN    ALLEGORY   OF   FRATERNAL   AFFECTION. 


There  were  six  young  falcons  living  in  a  nest,  all  but 
one  of  whom  were  still  unable  to  fly,  when  it  so  hap- 
pened that  both  the  parent  birds  were  shot  by  the  hunt- 
ers in  one  day.  The  young  brood  waited  with  impa- 
tience for  their  return  ;  but  night  came,  and  they  were 
left  without  parents  and  without  food.  Mceji-geeg-wona, 
or  the  Gray  Eagle,  the  eldest,  and  the  only  one  whose 
feathers  had  become  stout  enough  to  enable  him  to 
leave  the  nest,  assumed  the  duty  of  stilling  their  cries 
and  providing  them  with  food,  in  which  he  was  very 
successful.  But,  after  a  short  time  had  passed,  he,  by 
an  unlucky  mischance,  got  one  of  his  wings  broken  in 
pouncing  upon  a  swan.  This  was  the  more  unlucky, 
because  the  season  had  arrived  when  they  were  soon  to 
go  oft'  to  a  southern  climate  to  pass  the  winter,  and 
they  were  only  waiting  to  become  a  little  stouter  and 
more  expert  for  the  journey.  Finding  that  he  did  not 
return,  they  resolved  to  go  in  search  of  him,  and  found 
him  sorely  wounded  and  unable  to  lly. 

"lirothcrs,"  he  said,  "an  accident  has  befallen  me, 
but  let  not  this  prevent  your  going  to  a  wanner  climate. 


THE  SIX  HAWKS;    OR,  BROKEN  WING. 


259 


SCTION. 


a  nest,  all  but 
len  it  so  hap- 
t  by  the  liunt- 
h1  with  impa- 
nd  they  were 
ji-geeg-wona, 
ily  one  whose 
liable  him  to 

g  their  cries 

he  was  very 

)assed,  he,  by 

gs  broken  in 

lore  unlucky, 

were  soon  to 

e  winter,  and 
stouter  and 
[it  he  did  not 

ni,  and  found 

befallen  me, 
rmcr  climnlc, 


Winter  is  rapidly  approaching,  and  you  cannot  remain 
here.  It  is  better  that  I  alone  should  die  than  for  you 
all  to  suffer  miserably  on  my  account."  "  No  1  no!" 
they  replied,  with  one  voice,  **  we  will  not  forsake  you  ; 
we  will  share  your  sufferings  ;  we  will  abandon  our 
journey,  and  take  care  of  you,  as  you  did  of  us,  before 
we  were  able  to  take  care  of  ourselves.  If  the  climate 
kills  you,  it  shall  kill  us.  Do  you  think  we  can  so  soon 
^orgetyour  brotherly  care,  which  has  surpassed  a  father's 
and  even  a  mother's  kindness  ?  AVhethcr  you  live  or  die, 
we  will  live  or  die  with  you." 

They  sought  out  a  hollow  tree  to  winter  in,  and  con- 
trived to  carry  their  wounded  nestmate  there  ;  and,  be- 
fore the  rigors  of  winter  set  in,  they  had  stored  up 
food  enough  to  carry  them  through  its  severities.  To 
make  it  last  the  better,  two  of  the  number  went  off 
south,  leaving  the  other  three  to  watch  over,  feed,  and 
protect  the  wounded  bird.  Meeji-geeg-wona  in  due 
time  recovered  from  his  wound,  and  he  repaid  their 
kindness  by  giving  them  such  advice  and  instructi(jn  in 
the  art  of  hunting  as  his  exj)erience  had  qualilied  him 
to  impart.  As  spring  advanced,  they  began  to  venture 
out  of  their  hiding-place,  and  were  all  successful  in 
getting  food  to  eke  out  th(Mr  winter's  stock,  except  imo 
youngest,  who  was  called  i*ee[)i-geewi-zains,  or  iho 
JMgeon  JIawk.  JJeing  small  and  foolish,  flying  hitiier 
and  yon,  he  always  came  back  without  anythi  .,:,  At 
last  the  Gray  Kagle  spoke  to  him,  and  denmnded  tho 
cause  of  his  ill  luck.  "  It  is  not  my  smallness  or  weak- 
ness of  body,"  said  he,  "that  }>revents  my  1  rijiging 
home  flesh  as  well  as  my  brothers.  I  kill  ducks  and 
other  liirds  every  time  I  go  out ;  but,  just  as  I  get  to 
the  woods,  a  largo  Ko-ko-ko-ho*  robs  mt  of  my  prey. 

*  Owl. 


»» 


n 


II 


t 


I: 


i 

1 

^ 

J 

260 


THE  SIX  hawks;  or, 


"  Well !  don't  despair,  brother,"  said  Mceji-geeg-wona. 
"  I  now  feel  ray  strength  perfectly  recovered,  and  I 
will  go  out  with  you  to-morrow,"  for  he  was  the  most 
courageous  and  warlike  of  them  all. 

Xext  day  they  went  forth  in  company,  the  elder  seat- 
ing himself  near  the  lake.  Peepi-geewi-zains  started 
out,  and  soon  pounced  upon  a  duck. 

"Well  done!"  thought  his  brother,  who  saw  his 
success ;  but,  just  as  he  was  getting  to  land  with  his 
prize,  up  came  a  large  white  owl  from  a  tree,  where  he 
had  been  watching,  and  laid  claim  to  it.  He  was  about 
wresting  it  from  him,  when  Meeji-geeg-v^ona  came  up, 
and,  fixing  his  talons  in  both  sides  of  the  owl,  flew  home 
with  him. 

The  little  pigeon  hawk  followed  him  closely,  and  was 
rejoiced  and  happy  to  think  he  had  brought  home  some- 
thing at  last.  He  then  flew  in  the  owl's  face,  and 
wanted  to  tear  out  his  eyes,  and  vented  his  passion  in 
abundance  of  reproachful  terms.  "  Softly,"  said  the 
Gray  Eagle;  "  do  not  be  in  such  a  passion,  or  exhibit 
so  revengeful  a  disposition  ;  for  this  will  be  a  lesson  to 
him  not  to  tyrannize  over  any  one  who  is  weaker  than 
himself  for  the  future."  So,  after  giving  him  good  ad- 
vice, and  telling  him  what  kind  of  herbs  would  cure  his 
wounds,  they  let  the  owl  go. 

While  this  act  ;vas  taking  place,  and  before  the  libe- 
rated owl  had  yet  got  out  of  view,  two  visitors  appeared 
at  the  hollow  tree.  They  were  the  two  nestmates,  who 
had  just  returned  from  the  south  after  passing  the  win- 
ter there,  and  they  were  thus  all  happily  reunited,  and 
each  one  soon  chose  ■  ate  and  flew  off  to  the  woods. 
Sjjriiig  had  now  rev  ited  the  north.  The  cold  wii^ds 
had  ceased,  the  ice  ha<l  melted,  the  streams  were  open, 
and  the  forest  began  rapidly  to  put  on  its  vernal  hue. 


BROKEN  WING. 


201 


;eii-gGCg-wona. 
ovcred,  and  I 
I  was  the  most 

the  elder  seat- 
a-zains  started 

,  who  saw  his 
I  land  with  his 
,  tree,  where  he 
He  was  about 
\^ona  came  up, 
3  owl,  flew  home 


"  But  it  is  in  vain,"  said  the  old  man  who  related  this 
story,  "  it  is  in  vain  that  spring  returns,  if  we  are  not 
thankful  to  ^he  Master  of  Life  who  has  preserved  us 
through  the  winler.  Nor  does  that  man  answer  the 
end  for  which  he  was  made  who  does  not  show  a  kind 
and  charitable  feeling  to  all  who  are  in  want  or  sick- 
ness, especially  to  his  blood  relations.  These  six  birds 
only  represent  one  of  our  impoverished  nortlfcrn  fami- 
lies of  children,  who  had  been  deprived  of  both  their 
parents  and  the  aid  of  their  elder  brother  nearly  at  the 
same  time." 


closely,  and  was 
ght  home  some- 
owl's  face,  and 
i  his  passion  in 
loftly,"  said  the 
;sion,  or  exhibit 
ill  be  a  lesson  to 
)  is  weaker  than 
ng  him  good  ad- 
)S  would  cure  his 

i  before  the  libe- 
t'isitors  appeared 
0  nestmates,  who 
passing  the  win- 
lily  reunited,  and 
)ft'  10  the  woods. 
The  cold  wiiids 
reams  were  open, 
)n  its  vernal  hue. 


4N« 


i 


I  * 


• » 

[  > 


if 


i 


WEEXG, 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  SLEEP. 


Sleep  is  personified  by  the  Odjibwas  under  the  name 
of  W(  cncr.*  The  power  of  the  Indian  Morpheus  is 
execitod  by  a  peculiar  class  of  gnome-like  bei!»;TS, 
calli'i  Weemjs.  These  subordinate  creations,  although 
invisi!j;c  to  the  human  eye,  are  each  armed  with  a  tiny 
w;ir-c]ib,  or  pufrjramaugun,  with  which  they  nimbly 
cliuih  ■'}>  the  forehead,  and  knock  the  (b'owsy  person  on 
the  i  ■'  i;  on  which  sleepiness  is  immediately  produced. 
If  the  first  blow  is  insufficient,  another  is  given,  until 
the  eyelids  close,  and  a  sound  sleep  is  produced.  It 
is  the  constant  duty  of  these  little  agents  to  put  every 
one  to  sleep  whom  they  encounter — men,  women,  and 
children.  And  they  are  found  secreted  around  the  bed, 
or  on  small  protuberances  of  the  bark  of  the  Indian 
lodges.  They  hide  themselves  in  the  Gusiikeepitau- 
GUN,  or  smoking  pouch  of  the  hunter,  and  when  he  sits 
down  to  light  his  pipe  in  the  woods,  are  ready  to  fly 
out  and  exert  their  sleep-comi)elling  power.  If  they 
succeed,  the  game  is  suffer 'd  to  pass,  and  the  liunter 
obliged  to  return  to  his  lod;  >.  witnout  a  reward. 

In  general,  however,  tin  •  are  reprcsenlod  to  possess 
friendly  dispositions,  seeking  constantly  to  restore  vi- 

*  Tliis  word  has  the  sound  of  g  hard,  with  a  iJeculiarity  as 
if  followed  bv  k. 


WEENG  ;    THE  SI'llUT  OF  SLEEJ'. 


203 


under  the  name 
in  Morpheus  is 
me-like  beiiiixs, 
itions,  nlthough 
incd  with  a  tiny 
ch  they  nimbly 
'owsy  person  on 
lately  produced. 

is  given,  until 

produced.  It 
Ls  to  put  every 

n,  women,  and 
iround  the  bed, 

of  tlie  Indian 

IxUSIIKEEPITAU- 

id  when  he  sits 
ire  ready  to  fly 
3wcr.  If  they 
md  the  liunter 
reward, 

lUcd  to  possess 
'  to  restore  vi- 

H  peculiarity  as 


gor  and  elasticity  to  the  exhausted  body,  ijnt  being 
without  judgment,  tlieir  power  is  sometimes  exerted  at 
the  hazard  of  reputation,  or  even  life.  Sleep  may  be 
induced  in  a  person  carelessly  floating  in  his  canoe, 
above  a  fall ;  or  in  a  war  party,  on  the  borders  of  an 
enemy's  country;  or  in  a  female,  without  the  protection 
of  the  lodge  circle.  Althougli  their  peculiar  season  of 
action  is  in  the  night,  they  are  also  alert  during  the 
day. 

While  the  forms  of  these  gnomes  are  believed  to  be 
those  of  ininces,  little  or  fairy  men,  the  figure  of  Weeng 
liimself  is  unknown,  and  it  is  not  certain  that  he  has 
ever  been  seen.  Most  of  what  is  known  on  this  subject, 
is  derived  from  lagoo,  who  related,  that  going  out  one 
day  with  his  dogs  to  hunt,  he  passed  through  a  wide 
range  of  thicket,  where  he  lost  his  dogs.  He  became 
much  alarmed,  for  they  were  faithfid  animals,  and  he 
was  greatly  attached  to  them.  He  called  out,  and 
made  every  exertion  to  recover  them  in  vain.  At 
length  he  came  to  a  spot  where  he  found  them  nsleep, 
having  incaiitiously  ran  near  the  residence  of  Weeng. 
After  great  exertions  he  aroused  them,  but  not  without 
having  felt  the  power  of  somnolency  himself.  As  he  cast 
Ins  eyes  up  from  the  place  where  the  d(»gs  were  lying,  he 
saw  the  Spirit  of  Sleep  sitting  upon  the  branch  of  a  tree. 
He  was  in  the  sha[)e  of  a  giant  insect,  or  monetoi,,  with 
many  wings  from  his  back,  which  made  a  low  deep 
murmuring  sound,  like  distant  falling  water  But 
lagoo  himself,  being  a  very  great  liar  and  braggart, 
but  little  credit  was  given  to  his  narration. 

Weeng  is  not  only  the  ilispcnser  of  sice]),  bjit,  it 
seems,  he  is  also  the  author  of  dulucss,  whicii  renders 
the  word  susceptible  of  an  ironical  use.      If  an  oral  or 


■yrxKtai  ti  ^iM 


-'WA''^ 


.':t 

I  In 


1 


'    * 


I  » 

II 

1 1 


}     ii 


f^l 


I 


«■  II 


'*X. 


264 


WEENG  ;    THE  SPIRIT  OF  SLEEIV 


fails,  he  is  said  to  be  struck  by  Weeng.  If  a  warrior 
lingers,  he  has  ventured  too  near  the  sleepy  god.  If 
children  begin  to  nod  or  yawn,  the  Indian  mother  looks 
up  smilingly,  and  says,  "They  have  been  struck  by 
Weeng,"  and  puts  them  to  bed. 


■I 

i 


EEl' 


g.  If  a  warrior 
sleepy  god.     If 

iau  mother  looks 
been  struck  by 


ADDIK  KUM  MAIG  * 


ou 


THE  ORTGIX  OF  THE  AVHITE  FISH. 


A  LONG  time  ag-o,  there  lived  a  ftimous  hnnter  in  a 
remote  part  of  the  north.  He  had  a  handsome  wife  and 
two  sons,  who  were  left  in  the  lodpre  every  day,  while 
he  went  out  in  quest  of  the  animals,  npon  whose  flesh 
they  subsisted.  Game  was  very  abundant  in  those  days, 
and  his  exertions  in  the  chase  were  well  rewarded. 
The  skins  of  animals  furnished  them  with  clothin*^-,  and 
their  flesh  with  food.  They  lived  a  long  distance  from 
any  other  lodge,  and  very  seldom  saw  any  one.  The 
two  sons  were  still  too  young  to  follow  their  Either  to  the 
chase,  and  usually  diverted  themselves  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  lodge.  They  noticed  thfjit  a  young  man 
visited  the  lodge  during  their  father's  absence,  and 
+hese  visits  were  fre(juently  repeated.  At  length  the 
elder  of  the  two  said  to  his  mother  : 

"My  mother,  who  is  this  tall  young  man  that  comes 
here  so  often  during  our  father's  absence  ?  Does 
he  wish  to  see  him  ?  Sliall  I  tell  hlni  when  he  comes 
back  this   evening?"      "Bad  boy,"   said  the  mother, 

*This  term  appears  to  bo  a  ilcrivativo  from  addik,  the  roin- 
deer,  and  the  i)hirHl  torui  of  the  generic  gi'.mee,  writer,  implying 
deer  of  the  water. 


!'| 


206 


ADDIIv  IvUM  MAIG;    OR, 


J 

ii 


i 

M 

'I 


I. 

tl 


! 


'  t. 


^taa'a 


pcttislily,  "mind  your  how  and  arrows,  and  do  not 
]ji!  afraid  to  enter  tlie  forest  in  search  of  birds  and 
squirrels,  with  your  little  brotlier.  It  is  not  manly  to 
be  ever  about  the  lodge.  Nor  will  you  become  a  war- 
rior if  you  tell  all  the  little  things  you  see  and  hear  to 
your  father.  Say  not  a  word  to  him  on  the  subject." 
The  boys  obeyed,  but  us  they  grew  older,  and  still  saw 
the  visits  of  this  mysterious  stranger,  they  resolved  to 
si)eak  again  to  their  mother,  and  told  her  that  they 
meant  to  inform  their  father  of  all  they  had  observed, 
for  they  frequently  saw  thi-^  young  man  passing  through 
the  worxls,  and  he  did  I'ot  walk  in  the  [lath,  nor  did  he 
carry  ai  thing  to  eat.  If  he  had  any  message  to  de- 
liver, they  had  observed  that  messages  were  always 
addressed  to  the  men,  and  not  to  the  women.  At  this, 
the  mother  flew  into  a  rage.  "I  will  kill  you,"  said 
she,  "if  you  speak  of  it."  They  were  again  intimidated 
to  hold  their  peace.  But  observing  the  continuance  of 
an  impro})er  intercourse,  kejit  up  by  stealth,  as  it  were, 
they  resolved  at  last  to  disclose  the  whole  matter  to 
their  father.  They  did  so.  The  result  was  such  as 
might  have  been  Jinticipated.  The  father,  being  satis- 
fied of  the  infidelity  of  his  wife,  watched  a  suitable  occa- 
sion, when  she  was  separated  from  the  children,  that 
they  might  not  have  their  feelings  excited,  and  with  a 
single  blow  of  his  war-club  dispatched  her.  He  then 
buried  her  under  the  ashes  of  his  fire,  took  down  the 
lodge,  and  removed,  with  his  two  sons,  to  a  distant 
l)Osition. 

]>ut  the  spirit  of  the  woman  haunted  the  children, 
who  were  now  grown  up  to  the  estate  of  young  men. 
She  api)eared  to  them  as  tliey  returned  from  hunting 
in  the  evening.  T  ley  were  also  terrified  in  their  dreams, 
which  they  attributed  to  her.     She  harassed  their  ima- 


THE  OllTOIN  OF  THE  WHITE  FISH. 


2GY 


!,  and  ilo  not 
of  l)irds  and 
!  not  manly  to 
jcconic  a  war- 
:>e  and  hear  to 
the  suliject." 
,  and  still  saw 
icy  resolved  to 
her  that  they 
had  observed, 
issing  through 
ith,  nor  did  he 
nessage  to  de- 
were  always 
nen.  At  this, 
cill  yon,"  said 
un  intimidated 
continuance  of 
dtli,  as  it  were, 
lole  matter  to 
t  was  such  as 
[}!',  being  satis- 
i  suitable  occa- 
children,  that 
ed,  and  with  a 
her.  lie  then 
took  down  the 
■J,  to  a  distant 

1  the  children, 
5f  young  men. 
from  hunting 
n  their  dreams, 
ssed  their  inia- 


ninations  wherever  thcv  went.  Life  became  a  scone 
of  jjcrpctuiil  terrors.  They  resolved,  together  with 
their  father,  to  leave;  the  country,  and  commenced  a 
journey  toward  the  south.  After  travelling  many  days 
along  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior,  they  passed  around 
a  high  promontory  of  rock  where  a  large  river  issued 
out  of  the  lake,  and  soon  after  came  to  a  place  called 
Pauwateeo.* 

They  had  no  sooner  come  in  sight  of  these  falls,  than 
they  beheld  the  skull  of  the  woman  rolling  along  the 
beach.  They  were  in  the  utmost  fear,  and  kn*  n  not 
how  to  elude  her.  At  this  moment  one  of  tlicn.  kod 
out,  and  saw  a  stately  crane  sitting  on  a  rock  '  <• 
middle  of  the  rapids.  They  called  out  to  the  ImihI, 
"See,  grandfather,  we  are  persecuted  by  a  spirit.  Come 
and  take  us  across  the  falls,  so  that  we  may  escajjc  her." 

This  crane  was  a  bird  of  extraordinarv  size  and  c:reat 
age.  When  first  descried  by  the  two  sons,  he  sat  in 
a  state  of  stupor,  in  the  midst  of  the  most  violent 
eddies.  When  he  heard  himself  addressed,  he  stretched 
fortli  his  neck  with  great  deliberation,  and  lifting  him- 
self l)y  his  wings,  flew  across  to  their  assistance.  "  J>e 
careful,"  said  the  crane,  "that  you  do  not  touch  the 
back  part  of  my  head.  It  is  sore,  and  should  you 
press  against  it,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  avoid  throwing 
you  both  into  the  ra[)i(ls."  They  were,  however,  at- 
tentive on  this  point,  and  were  safely  landed  on  the 
south  shore  of  the  river. 

The  crane  then  resumed  his  former  position  in  the 
rapids.  Dut  the  skull  now  cried  out,  "  C(jme,  my 
grandfather,  and  carry  me  over,  for  I  have  hist  my 
children,  and    am  sorely   distressed."     The  aged  bird 

*  S.iut  Ste.  Marie. 


i^^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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Corporalion 


33  WMT  MAIN  tTMIT 

WIUTH.N.Y,  14SM 

(71*)l7a-4S03 


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268         ADDIK  KUM  MAIG;    OR,  THE  WHITE  FISH. 

flew  to  her  assistance.  lie  carefully  repeated  the  in- 
junction that  she  must  by  no  means  touch  the  back 
part  of  his  head,  which  had  been  hurt,  and  was  not 
yet  healed.  She  promised  to  obey,  but  soon  felt  a  curi- 
osity to  know  where  the  head  of  her  carrier  had  been 
liurt,  and  how  so  aged  a  bird  could  have  received  so 
bad  a  wound.  She  thought  it  strange,  and  before  they 
were  half  way  over  the  rajjids,  could  not  resist  the  in- 
clination she  felt  to  touch  the  affected  part.  Instantly 
the  crane  threw  her  into  the  rapids.  "  There,"  said 
he,  "  you  have  been  of  no  use  during  your  life,  you 
shall  now  be  changed  into  something  for  the  benefit 
of  your  people,  and  it  shall  be  called  Addik  Kura 
Maig."  As  the  skull  floated  from  rock  to  rock,  the 
brains  were  strewed  in  the  water,  in  a  form  resem- 
bling roes,  which  soon  assumed  the  shape  of  a  new 
species  of  fish,  possessing  a  whiteness  of  color,  and 
y)eculiar  flavor,  which  have  caused  it,  ever  since,  to  be 
in  great  repute  with  the  Indians. 

The  family  of  this  man,  in  gratitude  for  their  de- 
liverance, adopted  the  crane  as  ilieir  totem,  or  ancestral 
mark;  and  this  continues  to  be  the  distinguishing  tri- 
J)al  sign  of  the  band  to  this  day. 


I 


•J 


I 


I' 


'* 


BOKWEWA, 


ou 


THE  HUMPBACK  MAGIOIAX. 


ODJIBWA. 


BoKWEWA  and  his  brother  lived  in  a  sechidod  part  of 
the  country.  They  were  considered  as  Manitoes,  who 
had  assumed  mortal  shapes.  Bokwewa  was  the  most 
prifted  in  supernatural  endowments,  although  he  was 
deformed  in  person.  His  brother  partook  more  of  the 
nature  of  the  present  race  of  beiujcrs.  They  lived  re- 
tired from  the  world,  and  undisturbed  by  its  cares,  and 
passed  their  time  in  contentment  and  happiness. 

IJokwewa,*  owing  to  his  deformity,  was  very  domes- 
tic in  his  habits,  and  pave  his  attention  to  household 
affairs.  He  instructed  his  brother  in  the  manner  of 
pursuing?  ganie,  and  made  him  acquainted  with  all  the 
accomplishments  of  a  sagacious  and  expert  hunter.  His 
brother  possessed  a  fine  form,  and  an  active  and  robust 
constitution  ;  and  felt  a  disposition  to  show  himself  off 
among  men.  Ho  was  restive  in  his  seclusion,  and 
showed  a  fondness  for  visiting  remote  places. 

One  (lav  he  told  his  brother  that  he  was  going  to  leave 
him;  that  lie  wished  to  visit  the  habitations  of  men  and 


*  i.  €.,  tlio  suddfU  stoititiijg  of  a  voice. 
23* 


* 


270 


nOkWF.WA;    OR, 


procure  a  wife.  ]5ok\vcvva  objected  to  his  g-oincr;  but 
liis  l)rotlier  overruled  all  that  he  said,  and  he  finally  de- 
parted on  his  travels,  lie  travelled  a  long  time.  At 
length  he  fell  in  with  the  footsteps  of  men.  They  were 
moving  by  encampments,  for  he  saw  several  places  where 
they  had  encamped.  It  was  in  the  winter.  He  came  to 
a  place  where  one  of  their  number  had  died.  They  had 
placed  the  corpse  on  a  scaffold.  He  went  to  it  and 
took  it  down,  lie  saw  that  it  was  the  corpse  of  a 
beautiful  young  woman.  "She  shall  be  my  wifel"  he 
exclaimed. 

He  took  her  up,  and  placing  her  on  his  back,  returned 
to  his  brother.  "Brother,"  he  said,  "cannot  you  re- 
store her  to  life?  Oh,  do  me  that  favor!"  Bokwewa 
said  he  would  try.  He  performed  numerous  ceremonies, 
and  at  last  succeeded  in  restoring  her  to  life.  Tliey 
lived  very  happily  for  some  time.  Bokwewa  was  ex- 
tremely kind  to  his  brother,  and  did  everything  to  ren- 
der his  life  hapj)y.  Being  deformed  and  crippled,  he 
always  remained  at  home,  while  his  brother  went  out 
to  hunt.  And  it  was  by  following  his  directions,  which 
were  those  of  a  skilful  hunter,  that  he  always  succeeded 
in  returning  with  a  good  store  of  meat. 

One  day  he  had  gone  out  as  usual,  and  Bokwewa 
was  sitting  in  his  lodge,  on  the  opposite  side  of  his 
brother's  wife,  when  a  tall,  fine  young  man  entered, 
and  immediately  took  the  woman  by  the  hand  and 
drew  her  to  the  door.  She  resisted  and  called  on 
Bokwewa,  who  jumped  up  to  her  assistance.  But  their 
joint  resis*ance  was  unavailing;  the  man  succeeded  in 
carrying  her  away.  In  the  scullle,  Bokwewa  had  his 
hum})  back  much  l)ruised  on  the  stones  near  the  door. 
He  crawled  into  the  lodge  and  wept  very  sorely,  for  he 


THE  HUMPHACK  MA(ilCIA\. 


271 


jroincr;  but 

le  finally  de- 

g  time.     At 

Thcv  were 

placCvS  where 

lie  came  to 
1.  They  had 
nt  to  it  and 

corpse  of  a 
my  wife  I"  he 

ack, returned 
nnot  you  re- 
"  Bokvvewa 
IS  ceremonies, 
3  life,  they 
vewa  was  ex- 
thing  to  ren- 
crippled,  he 
her  went  out 
jctions,  which 
ays  succeeded 

md  Bokwcwa 
e  side  of  his 
man  entered, 
he  liand  and 
Lud  called  on 
ce.    15ut  their 

succeeded  in 
wewa  liad  his 
near  the  door. 

sorelv,  for  he 


knew  that  it  was  a  powerful  Manito  who  had  taken  the 
woman. 

When  his  brother  returned,  h*^  related  all  to  him  ex- 
actly as  it  happened,  lie  would  not  taste  food  for 
several  days.  Sometimes  he  would  fall  to  weeping  for 
a  long  time,  and  appeared  almost  beside  himself.  At 
last  he  said  he  would  go  in  search  of  her.  iJokwewa 
tried  to  dissuade  him  from  it,  but  he  insisted. 

"Well!"  said  he,  "since  you  are  bent  on  going, 
listen  to  my  advice.  You  will  have  to  go  south.  It 
is  a  long  distance  to  the  residence  of  your  captive  wife, 
and  there  are  so  many  charms  and  temptations  in  the 
way,  I  am  afraid  you  will  be  led  astray  by  them,  and 
forget  your  errand.  For  the  people  whom  you  will  see 
in  that  country  do  nothing  but  amuse  themselves. 
They  are  very  idle,  gay,  and  effeminate,  and  I  am  fear- 
ful they  will  lead  you  astray.  Your  journey  is  beset 
with  difficulties.  I  will  mention  one  or  two  things, 
which  you  must  be  on  your  guard  against.  In  the 
course  of  your  journey,  you  will  come  to  a  large  grape- 
vine lying  across  your  way.  You  must  not  even  taste 
its  fruit,  for  it  is  poisonous.  Step  over  it.  It  is  a 
snake.  You  will  next  come  to  something  that  looks 
like  bear's  fat,  trans[)arent  and  tremulous.  Don't  taste 
it,  or  you  will  be  overcome  by  the  ])leasures  of  those 
])cople.  It  is  frog's  eggs.  These  are  simres  laid  by 
the  way  for  you." 

lie  said  he  would  follow  the  advice,  and  bid  farewell 
to  his  brother.  After  travelling  a  long  time,  he  came 
to  the  enchanted  grai)e-vine.  It  looked  so  temjttiiig, 
he  forgot  his  brother's  advice  and  tasted  the  fruit.  ]Ie 
went  on  till  he  came  to  the  frog's  eggs.  The  substance 
so  nmch  resembled  bear's  fat  that  he  tasted  it.  He 
still  went  on.     At  length  lie  came  to  a  very  extensive 


i!',l 


P'l 


n 


'; 


Mf 


i 


►■ 


272 


JIOKWEWA;    OR, 


plain.  As  he  emerged  from  the  forest  the  sun  was 
settinpr,  and  east  its  scarlet  and  golden  shades  over  all 
the  plain.  The  air  was  perfectly  calm,  and  the  whole 
prospect  had  the  air  of  an  enchanted  land.  The  most 
inviting  fruits  and  flowers  spread  out  before  the  eye. 
At  a  distance  he  beheld  a  large  village,  filled  with 
people  without  number,  and  as  he  drew  near  he  saw 
women  beating  corn  in  silver  mortars.  When  they  saw 
him  approaching,  they  cried  out,  "Bokwewa's  brother 
has  come  to  see  us."  Throngs  of  men  and  women, 
gayly  dressed,  came  out  to  meet  him.  He  was  soon 
overcome  by  their  flatteries  and  pleasures,  and  he  was 
not  long  afterward  seen  beating  corn  with  their  women 
(the  strongest  proof  of  effeminacy),  although  his  wife, 
for  whom  he  had  mourned  so  much,  was  in  that  Indian 
metropolis. 

Meantime,  Bokwewa  waited  patiently  for  the  return 
of  his  brother.  At  length,  after  the  lapse  of  several 
years,  he  sat  out  in  search  of  him,  and  arrived  in 
safety  among  the  luxuriant  people  of  the  South.  He 
met  with  the  same  allurements  on  the  road,  and  the 
same  flattering  reception  that  his  brother  did.  But  he 
was  above  all  temptations.  The  pleasures  he  saw  had 
no  other  effect  upon  him  than  to  make  him  regret  the 
weakness  of  mind  of  those  who  were  led  away  by  them. 
He  shed  tears  of  pity  to  see  that  his  brother  had  laid 
aside  the  arms  of  n  hunter,  and  was  seen  beating  corn 
with  the  women. 

He  ascertained  where  his  brother's  wife  remained. 
After  deliberating  some  time,  he  went  to  the  river 
where  she  usually  came  to  draw  water.  He  there 
changed  himself  into  one  of  those  hair-snakes  which  are 
sometimes  seen  in  running  water.  When  she  came 
down,  he  spoke  to  her,  snyiiig,  "Take  me  up;   I  am 


THE  HUMPBACK  MAGICIAN. 


273 


Bokvvewa."  She  then  scooped  him  out  and  went  home. 
In  a  short  time  the  ^[anito  wlio  had  taken  her  away 
asked  her  for  water  to  drink.  Tiie  lodge  in  whieh  they 
lived  was  partitioned.  He  occupied  a  secret  place,  and 
was  never  seen  by  any  one  but  the  woman.  She 
handed  him  the  water  containing  the  hair-snake,  which 
he  drank,  with  the  snake,  and  soon  after  was  a  dead 
Man  i  to. 

Bokwewa  then  resumed  his  former  shape.  lie  went 
to  his  brother,  and  used  every  means  to  reclaim  him. 
lint  he  would  not  listen.  He  was  so  much  taken  up 
with  the  pleasures  and  dissipations  into  which  he  had 
fallen,  that  he  refused  to  give  them  up,  although  Bok- 
wewa,  with  tears,  tried  to  convince  him  of  his  foolish- 
ness, and  to  show  him  that  those  pleasures  ro\\\(\  not 
endure  for  a  long  time.  Finding  thtit  lie  was  past 
reclaiming,  Bokwcwa  left  him,  and  disappeared  forever. 


•■•  ! 


I   *■ 


■  ] 


AGGODAGAUDA  AND  IITS  DAUGHTER, 


OB 


THE  MAN  WITH  HIS  LEG  TIED  UP. 


Teie  prairie  and  forest  tribes  were  once  at  war,  and 
it  required  the  keenest  eyes  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of 
daii<^er.  Ap^goda«i:auda  lived  on  the  borders,  in  the 
forests,  but  he  was  in  a  by-place  not  easy  to  lind.  lie 
was  a  successful  hunter  and  fisher,  althou<2:h  he  had,  by 
some  mischance,  lost  the  use  of  one  of  his  legs.  So 
he  had  it  tied,  and  looped  up,  and  got  over  the  ground 
by  hopping. 

Use  had  given  him  great  power  in  the  sound  leg, 
and  he  could  hop  to  a  distance,  which  was  surprising. 
There  was  nobody  in  the  country  who  could  outgo  him 
on  a  hunt.  Even  Paup-Puk-keewiss,  in  his  best  days, 
could  hardly  excel  him.  But  he  had  a  great  enemy  in 
the  chief  or  king  of  the  buffaloes,  who  frequently  passed 
over  the  plains  with  the  force  of  a  tempest.  It  was  a 
peculiarity  of  Aggodagauda,  that  he  had  an  only  child, 
a  daughter,  who  was  very  beautiful,  whom  it  was  the 
aim  of  this  enemy  to  carry  off,  and  he  had  to  exert 
his  skill  to  guard  her  from  the  inroad  of  his  great  and 
wily  opponent.  To  protect  her  the  better,  he  had 
built  a  log  house,  and  it  was  only  on  the  roof  of  this 
that  he  could  permit  his  daughter  to  take  the  open  air, 
and  disport  herself.     Now  her  hair  was  so  long,  that 


A(iGUlJA(iALlJA  AND  HIS  DALUMTKU.    ^ 


275 


w'licn  she  untied  it,  the  raven  locks  hung  clown  to  the 
ground. 

One  fine  morning,  the  father  had  prepared  liiniself 
to  go  out  a  fisliing,  but  before  k-avlng  the  lodge  i)ut 
her  on  her  guard  against  their  areli  enemy.  "  The  sun 
shines,"  said  lie,  "and  the  buil'alo  chief  will  be  apt  to 
move  this  way  before  the  sun  gets  to  the  middle  point, 
and  you  must  be  careful  not  to  ])ass  out  of  the  house, 
for  there  is  no  knowing  but  he  is  always  narrowly 
watchjng.  If  you  go  out,  at  all,  let  it  be  on  the  roof, 
and  even  there  keep  a  sharp  lookout,  lest  he  sweep  by 
and  catch  you  with  his  long  horns."  With  this  advice 
he  left  his  lodge.  But  he  had  scarcely  got  sealed  in 
his  canoe,  on  his  favorite  fishing-ground,  when  his  ear 
caught  opprobrious  strains  from  his  enemy,  lie  list- 
ened again,  and  the  sound  was  now  clearer  than  be- 
fore— 

"  Aggodagauila — one  legged  man, 
Man  with  his  leg  tit'd  u])  ; 
Wliat  is  ho  but  a  rapakena,* 
IIil)ped,  and  leggei  i"' 

He  immediately  paddled  his  canoe  ashore,  and  took  his 
way  home — hopping  a  hundred  rods  at  a  leap.  l>ut 
when  he  reached  his  house  his  daughter  was  gone.  She 
had  gone  out  on  the  top  of  the  house,  and  sat  comb- 
ing her  long  and  beautiful  hair,  on  the  eaves  of  the 
lodge,  when  the  buflalo  king,  coming  suddenly  by,  caught 
her  glossy  hair,  and  winding  it  about  his  horns,  tossed 
her  on  to  his  shoulders,  swept  off  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion to  his  village.  He  was  followed  by  his  whole 
troop,  who  made  the  plains  shake  under  their  tread. 
They  soon  reached,  and  dashed  across  a  river,  and  )iur- 
sued  their  course  to  the  chief's  village,  where  she  was 


1 


in 


*  Grasshopper. 


-I 

I 


I 


i 


■<ll 


:i 


276 


AOCJODAOAUDA  AND  HIS  DAUGHTER. 


rt'cc'ivcd  by  all  with  gnnit  attention.  His  other  wives 
(lid  all  they  could  to  put  the  lodge  in  order,  and  thebuf- 
falo'king  hiinpolf  was  unremitting  in  his  kindness  and  at- 
tention. He  took  down  from  the  walls  his  pibbegwun, 
and  began  to  play  the  softest  strains,  to  please  her  ear. 
Ever  and  anon,  as  the  chorus  paused,  could  be  heard 
the  words — 

"  Ne  no  mo  slm  makow, 
Aiihi  saw  ge  naun. 
My  swoethoart — my  bosom  is  true, 
You  only — it  is  you  that  I  love." 

They  brought  her  cold  water,  in  bark  dishes  from 
the  spring.  They  set  before  her  the  choicest  food. 
The  king  handed  her  nuts  from  the  pecan-tree,  then  he 
went  out  hunting  to  get  her  the  finest  meats  and  water 
fowl.  But  she  remained  pensive,  and  sat  fasting  in  her 
lodge  day  after  day,  and  gave  him  no  hopes  of  for- 
giveness for  his  treachery. 

In  the  mean  time,  Aggodagauda  came  home,  and 
finding  his  daughter  had  been  stolen,  determined  to 
get  her  back.  For  this  purpose  he  immediately  set 
out.  He  could  easily  track  the  king,  until  he  came  to 
the  banks  of  the  river,  and  saw  that  he  had  plunged  in 
and  swam  over.  But  there  had  been  a  frosty  night  or 
two  since,  and  the  water  was  covered  with  thin  ice, 
so  that  he  could  not  walk  on  it.  He  determined  to 
encamp  till  it  became  solid,  and  then  crossed  over  and 
pursued  the  trail.  As  he  went  along  he  saw  branches 
broken  off  and  strewed  behind,  for  these  had  been  pur- 
posely cast  along  by  the  daughter,  that  the  way  might 
be  found.  And  the  manner  in  which  she  had  accom- 
plished it  was  this.  Her  hair  was  all  untied  when 
she  was  caught  up,  and  being  very  long,  it  caught  on 
the  branches  as  they  darted  along,  and  it  was  these 


lEll. 


THE  MAN  WITH  HIS  LELi  TIED  VV. 


277 


is  other  wives 
ir,  and  the  buf- 
ndness  and  at- 
lis  pibbegwun, 
please  her  ear. 
ould  be  heard 


uc, 

•k   dishes  from 
choicest  food, 
in-tree,  then  he 
iieats  and  water 
it  fasting  in  her 
0  hopes  of  for- 
mic home,  and 
determined  to 
immediately  set 
mtil  he  came  to 
had  plunged  in 
rosty  night  or 
with  thin  ice, 
determined  to 
ossed  over  and 
e  saw  branches 
had  been  pur- 
the  way  might 
he  had  accom- 
,11  untied  when 
,  it  caught  on 
d  it  was  these 


twigs  that  she  broke  oil'  for  signs  to  her  father.  \Vlioii 
he  came  to  the  king's  lodge  it  was  evening.  Carefully 
approaching  it,  he  peeped  through  the  sides  and  saw 
his  daughter  sitting  disconsolately.  She  immediately 
caught  his  eye,  and  knowing  that  it  was  her  father 
come  for  her,  she  all  at  once  appeared  to  relent  in  her 
heart,  and  asking  for  the  dipper,  said  to  the  king,  "  I 
will  go  and  get  you  a  drink  of  water."  This  token  of 
submission  delighted  him,  and  he  waited  with  im]>a- 
tience  for  her  return.  At  last  he  went  out  with  his 
followers,  but  nothing  could  be  seen  or  heard  of  the 
captive  daughter.  They  sallied  out  in  the  plains,  but 
had  not  gone  far,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  when  a 
party  of  hunters,  headed  by  the  father-in-law  of  Aggo- 
dagauda,  set  up  their  yells  in  their  rear,  and  a 
shower  of  arrows  was  poured  in  upon  them.  Many  of 
their  numbers  fell,  but  the  king  being  stronger  and 
swifter  than  the  rest,  fled  toward  the  west,  and  never 
again  appeared  in  that  part  of  the  country. 

While  all  this  was  passing,  Aggodagauda,  who 
had  met  his  daughter  the  moment  she  came  out  of  the 
lodge,  and  being  helped  by  his  guardian  spirit,  took 
her  on  his  shoulders  and  hopped  off,  a  hundred  steps 
in  one,  till  he  reached  the  stream, crossed  it, and  brought 
back  his  daughter  in  triumph  to  his  lodge. 


\i 


I 


24 


i 


tj. 


1^ 


M 


*l 


IOSCO  ; 


OR, 


THE  PRAIRIE  BOYS'  VISIT  TO  THE  SUN  AND 

MOON. 

AN    OTTAWA  LEGEND. 


One  pleasant  morning,  five  young  men  and  a  boy 
about  ten  years  of  age,  called  loscoda,  went  out  a 
shooting  with  their  bows  and  arrows.  They  left  their 
lodges  with  the  first  appearance  of  daylight,  and 
having  passed  through  a  long  reach  of  woods,  had 
ascended  a  lofty  eminence  before  the  sun  arose.  While 
standing  there  in  a  group,  the  sun  suddenly  burst  forth 
in  all  its  effulgence.  The  air  was  so  clear,  that  it  ap- 
peared to  be  at  no  great  distance.  "  How  very  near 
it  is,"  they  all  said.  "  It  cannot  be  far,"  said  the  eldest, 
"and  if  you  will  accompany  me,  we  will  see  if  we  can- 
not reach  it."  A  loud  assent  burst  from  every  lip. 
Even  the  boy,  loscoda,  said  he  would  go.  They  told 
him  he  was  too  young ;  but  he  replied,  "  If  you  do  not 
permit  me  to  go  with  you,  I  will  mention  your  design 
to  each  of  your  parents."  They  then  said  to  him,  "  You 
shall  also  go  with  us,  so  be  quiet." 

They  then  fell  upon  the  following  arrangement.  It 
was  resolved  that  each  one  should  obtain  from  his 
parents  as  many  pairs  of  moccasins  as  he  could,  and 


IOSCO;  OR,  THE  prairie-boys'  visit  to  the  sun.     279 


SUx\  AND 


also  new  clothing  of  leather.  They  fixed  on  a  spot 
where  they  would  conceal  all  their  articles,  nntil  they 
were  ready  to  start  on  their  journey,  and  which  would 
serve,  in  the  mean  time,  as  a  pjace  of  rendezvous,  where 
they  might  secretly  meet  and  consult.  This  being 
arranged,  they  returned  home. 

A  long  time  passed  before  they  could  put  their  plan 
into  execution.  But  they  kept  it  a  profound  secret, 
even  to  the  boy.  They  frequently  met  at  the  appoint- 
ed place,  and  discussed  the  subject.  At  length  every- 
thing was  in  readiness,  and  they  decided  on  a  day  to 
set  out.  That  morning  the  boy  shed  tears  for  a 
pair  of  new  leather  leggings.  "Don't  you  see,"  said 
he  to  his  parents,  "how  my  companions  are  dressed?" 
This  appeal  to  their  pride  and  envy  prevailed.  He 
obtained  the  leggings.  Artifices  were  also  resorted  to 
by  the  others,  under  the  plea  of  going  out  on  a  special 
hunt.  They  said  to  one  another,  but  in  a  tone  that 
they  might  be  overheard,  "We  will  sec  who  will  bring 
in  the  most  game."  They  went  out  in  different  direc- 
tions, but  soon  met  at  the  appointed  place,  where  they 
had  hid  the  articles  for  their  journey,  with  as  many 
arrows  as  they  had  time  to  make.  Each  one  took  some- 
thing on  his  back,  and  they  began  their  march.  They 
travelled  day  after  day,  through  a  thick  forest,  but  the 
sun  was  always  at  the  same  distance.  "We  must,"  said 
they,  "travel  toward  Waubunong,*  and  we  shall  get  to 
the  object,  some  time  or  other."  No  one  was  dis- 
couraged, although  winter  overtook  them.  They  built 
a  lodge  and  hunted,  till  they  obtained  as  much  dried 
meat  as  they  could  carry,  and  then  continued  on.  This 
they  did  several  times ;  season  followed  season.     More 


n 


1 


|M 


.t\ 


' 


I 


i 


^'  The  East — /.  e.  place  of  light. 


r 


If 


fi 


1 


I 

i'  -1 

1 


i    I 


II 


Hi         1 

11 

: 

\ 

t 

1                ■  : 

'\ 

r  ! 

^ 


280 


IOSCO;  OB, 


than  one  winter  overtook  them.  Yet  none  of  them 
became  discouraged,  or  expressed  dissatisfaction. 

One  day  the  travellers  came  to  the  banks  of  a  river, 
whose  waters  ran  toward  Waubunong.  They  followed 
it  down  many  days.  As  they  weie  walking,  one  day, 
they  came  to  rising  grounds,  from  which  they  saw  some- 
thing white  or  clear  through  the  trees.  They  encamped 
on  this  elevation.  Next  morning  they  came,  suddenly, 
in  view  of  an  immciise  body  of  water.  Xo  land  could 
be  seen  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  One  or  two  of 
them  lay  down  on  the  beach  to  drink.  As  soon  as 
they  got  the  water  in  their  mouths,  they  spit  it  out, 
and  exclaimed,  with  surprise,  "Shewet.ngon  awbo !"  [salt 
water.]  It  was  the  sea.  While  looking  on  the  water, 
the  sun  arose  as  if  from  the  deep,  and  went  on  its 
steady  course  through  the  heavens,  enlivening  the  scene 
with  his  cheering  and  animating  berms.  They  stood 
in  fixed  admiration,  but  the  object  appeared  to  be  as 
distant  from  them  as  ever.  They  thought  it  best  to 
encamp,  and  consult  whether  it  were  advisable  to  go 
on,  or  return.  "We  see,"  said  the  leader,  "that  the 
sun  is  still  on  the  opposite  side  of  this  great  water,  but 
let  us  not  be  disheartened.  We  can  walk  around  the 
shore."    To  this  they  all  assented. 

Next  morning  they  took  the  northerly  shore,  to  walk 
around  it,  but  had  only  gone  a  short  distance  when 
they  came  to  a  large  river.  They  again  encamped,  and 
while  sitting  before  the  fire,  the  question  was  put, 
whether  any  one  of  them  had  ever  dreamed  of  water,  or 
of  walking  on  it.  After  a  long  silence,  the  eldest  said 
ho  had.  Soon  after  they  lay  down  to  sleep.  When 
they  arose  the  following  morning,  the  eldest  addressed 
them:  "We  have  done  wrong  in  coming  north.  Last 
night  my  spirit  appeared  to  me,  and  told  me  to  go 


THE  prairie-boys'  visit  to  the  sux  and  moon.    281 


le  of  them 
[:tiou. 

;  of  a  river, 
,ey  followed 
ig,  one  day, 
y  saw  somc- 
ly  encamped 
le,  suddenly, 
\)  land  could 
ne  or  two  of 
As  soon  as 
spit  it  out, 
awbo!"[salt 
3n  the  water, 
went  on  its 
ins  the  scene 
They  stood 
ired  to  be  as 
rht  it  best  to 
nsable  to  go 
Icr,  "that  the 
cat  water,  but 
k  around  the 

shore,  to  walk 
listance  when 
■ueaniped,  and 
ion  was  put, 
d  of  water,  or 
he  eldest  said 
sleep.     When 
l(!st  addressed 
J  nurth.     I^ast 
old  nic  to  go 


■^ 


south,  and  that  but  a  short  distance  beyond  the  spot 
we  left  yesterday,  we  should  come  to  a  river  with  high 
banks.  That  by  looking  off  its  mouth,  we  should  see 
an  island,  which  would  approach  to  us.  He  directed 
that  we  should  all  get  on  it.  He  then  told  me  to  cast 
my  eyes  toward  the  water.  I  did  so,  and  I  saw  all  he 
had  declared.  He  then  informed  me  that  we  must  re- 
turn south,  and  wait  at  the  river  until  the  day  after  to- 
morrow. I  believe  all  that  was  revealed  to  me  in  this 
dream,  and  that  we  shall  do  well  to  follow  it." 

The  party  immediately  retraced  their  footsteps  in  ex- 
act obedience  to  these  intimations.  Toward  the  even- 
ing they  came  to  the  borders  of  the  indicated  river.  It 
had  high  banks,  behind  which  they  encamped,  and  here 
they  patiently  awaited  the  fulfilment  of  the  dream.  The 
appointed  day  arrived.  They  said,  "  We  will  see  if  that 
which  has  been  said  will  be  seen."  Midday  is  the  pro- 
mised time.  Early  in  the  morning  two  had  gone  to 
the  shore  to  keep  a  look-out.  They  waited  anxiously 
for  the  middle  of  the  day,  straining  their  eyes  to  see  if 
they  could  discover  anything.  Suddenly  they  raised  a 
shout.  "Ewaddee  suh  neen !  There  it  is  I  There  it  is  I" 
On  rushing  to  the  spot  they  beheld  something  like  an 
iW«nrf  steadily  advancing  toward  the  shore.  As  it  ap- 
proached, they  could  discover  that  something  was 
moving  on  it  in  various  directions.  They  said,  "It  is  a 
Manito,  let  us  be  off  into  the  woods."  "No,  no,"  cried 
the  eldest,  "let  us  stay  and  watch."  It  now  became 
stationary,  and  lost  much  of  its  imagined  height.  They 
could  only  see  three  trees,  as  they  thought,  resem- 
bling trees  in  a  pinery  that  had  been  burnt.  The  wind, 
which  had  been  off  the  sea,  now  died  away  into  a  i)er- 
feet  calm.  They  saw  comethiug  leaving  the  fancied 
island  and  approaching  the  shore,  throwing  and  flop- 

24* 


282 


IOSCO;  OR, 


(i 


l)ing  its  wings,  like  u  loon  wlicn  he  attempts  to  fly  in 
culm  weather.  It  entered  j  mouth  of  the  river. 
They  were  on  the  point  of  r'u.uing  away,  but  the  eldest 
dissuaded  them.  "  Let  us  hide  in  this  hollow,"  he  said, 
"and  we  will  see  what  it  can  be."  They  did  so.  They 
soon  heard  the  sounds  of  choppinja^,  and  quickly  after 
they  heard  the  falling  of  trees.  Suddenly  a  man  came 
up  to  the  place  of  their  concealment.  He  stood  still 
and  gazed  at  them.  They  did  the  same  in  utter  amaze- 
ment. After  looking  at  them  for  some  time,  the  person 
advanced  and  extended  his  hand  toward  them.  The 
eldest  took  it,  and  they  shook  hands.  He  then  spoke, 
but  they  could  not  .understand  each  other.  He  then 
cried  out  for  his  comrades.  They  came,  and  examined 
very  minutely  their  dresses.  They  again  tried  to  con- 
verse. Finding  it  impossible,  the  strangers  then  mo- 
tioned to  the  Naubecpion,  and  to  the  Naubequon-ais,* 
wishing  them  to  embark.  They  consulted  with  each 
other  for  a  short  time.  The  eldest  then  motioned  that 
they  should  go  on  board.  They  embarked  on  board 
the  boat,  which  they  found  to  be  loaded  with  wood. 
When  they  reached  the  side  of  the  supposed  island,  they 
were  surprised  to  see  a  great  number  of  people,  who 
all  came  to  the  side  and  looked  at  them  with  open 
mouths.  One  spoke  out,  above  the  others,  and  appear- 
ed to  be  the  leader.  He  motioned  them  to  get  on 
board.  He  looked  at  and  examined  them,  and  took 
them  down  into  the  cabin,  and  set  things  before  them 
to  cat.     He  treated  them  very  kindly. 

*  Ship  and  boat.  These  terms  exhibit  the  simi)lo  and  tlio 
(liiuiniitive  forms  of  tlio  name  lor  sliip  or  vessel.  It  is  also 
tho  term  for  a  woman's  nee(Uework,  and  seems  to  imply  a 
tangled  thready  mass,  and  was  perhaps  transferred  in  allusion 
to  a  shi])'s  rojtes. 


THE  PRAIRIE-BOYiS'  VISIT  TO  THE  SUN  AND  MOON.     283 


Wlicn  they  came  on  deck  ap;ain,  all  tlie  sails  wtro 
sjjrcad,  and  they  were  fast  losing  si,i!:ht  of  land.  In 
the  course  of  the  night  and  the  following  day  they  were 
sick  at  the  stomach,  but  soon  recovered.  When  they 
had  been  out  at  sea  ten  days,  they  became  sorrowful, 
as  they  coul'd  not  converse  with  those  who  had  hats 
on.* 

The  following  night  loscoda  dreamed  that  his  spirit 
appeared  to  him.  lie  told  him  not  to  be  discouraged, 
that  he  would  open  his  ears,  so  as  to  be  able  to  under- 
stand the  people  with  hats.  I  will  not  permit  you  to 
understand  much,  said  he,  only  sufficient  to  reveal  your 
wants,  and  to  know  what  is  said  to  you.  He  repeated 
this  dream  to  his  friends,  and  they  were  satisfied  and 
encouraged  by  it.  When  they  had  been  out  about 
thirty  days,  the  master  of  the  ship  told  them,  a?Rl  mo- 
tioned them  to  change  their  dresses  of  leather,  for  such 
as  his  people  wore  ;  for  if  they  did  not,  his  master 
would  be  displeased.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the 
elder  first  understood  a  few  words  of  the  language. 
The  first  phrase  he  comprehended  was  La  qne  notte, 
and  from  one  word  to  another  he  was  soon  able  to  speak 
it. 

One  day  the  men  cried  out,  land  I  and  soon  after 
they  heard  a  noise  resembling  thunder,  in  repeated 
peals.  When  they  had  got  over  their  fears,  they  were 
shown  the  large  guns  which  made  this  noise.  Soon 
after  they  saw  a  vessel  smaller  than  their  own,  sailing 
out  of  a  bay,  in  the  direction  toward  theiu.  She  had 
Hags  on  her  masts,  and  when  she  came  near  she  lired  a 
gun.     The  large  vessel  also  hoisted  her  Hags,  and  the 


W. 


■  h  A  i 


1 11  'I'l 
11 


ii 


I 


^  W<'wa(Hi(»iiiiljit,',  a  term  early  and  cxtoiisivcly  applied  to 
white  nu'ii,  \>y  our  iudians,  and  still  I'lv^iiontly  used. 


284 


IOSCO ;  OR, 


^  ii^ 


boat  came  alongside.  The  master  told  the  person  who 
came  in  it,  to  tell  his  master  or  king,  that  he  had  six 
strangers  on  board,  such  as  had  never  been  seen  before, 
and  that  they  were  coming  to  visit  him.  It  was  some 
time  after  the  departure  of  this  messenger  before  the 
vessel  got  up  to  the  town.  It  was  then  dark,  but  they 
could  see  people,  and  horses,  and  odawbons*  ashore. 
They  were  landed  and  placed  in  a  covered  vehicle,  and 
driven  off.  When  they  stopped,  they  were  taken  into 
a  large  and  splendid  room.  They  were  here  told  that 
the  great  chief  wished  to  see  them.  They  were  shown 
into  another  large  room,  filled  with  men  and  women. 
All  the  room  was  Shoneancauda.f  The  chief  asked 
them  their  business,  and  the  object  of  their  journey. 
They  told  him  where  they  were  from,  and  where  they 
were  going,  and  the  nature  of  the  enterprise  which 
they  kiad  undertaken.  He  tried  to  dissuade  them  from 
its  execution,  telling  them  of  the  many  trials  and  diffi- 
culties they  would  have  to  undergo  ;  that  so  many  days' 
march  from  his  country  dwelt  a  bad  spirit,  or  Manito, 
who  foreknew  and  foretold  the  existence  and  arrival  of 
all  who  entered  into  his  country.  It  is  impossible,  he 
said,  my  children,  for  you  ever  to  arrive  at  the  object 
you  are  in  search  of. 

loscoda  replied  :  "Nosa,"I  and  they  could  see  the 
chief  blush  in  being  called /a^Aer,  "we  have  come  so 
far  on  our  way,  and  we  will  continue  it ;  we  have  re- 
solved firmly  that  we  will  do  so.  We  think  our  lives 
are  of  no  value,  for  we  have  given  them  up  for  this 


*  Odawbon  comprehends  all  vohiclos  between  a  dog  train 
i\nd  a  coach,  wliether  on  wheels  or  runnel's.  The  term  is 
nearest  allied  to  vehicle.  f  Massive  silver. 

X  My  father. 


crson  who 
ic  bad  six 
een  bcfvjre, 
,  was  some 
before  tlie 
k,  but  they 
[IS*  ashore, 
vehicle,  and 
taken  into 
re  told  that 
were  shown 
and  women, 
chief  asked 
leir  journey. 
L  where  they 
Tprise  which 
de  thero  from 
als  and  difR- 
jo  many  days' 
t,  or  Manito, 
and  arrival  of 
mpossible,  he 
at  the  object 

could  see  the 
lave  come  so 
we  have  re- 
link our  lives 
m  up  for  this 

vcen  a  dog  train 
s.     The  tenu  is 
■lustiivc  silver. 


THE  PRAIRIE-BOYS'  VISIT  TO  TOE  SUN  AND  MOON.      285 

object.  Nosa,"  he  repeated,  "do  not  then  i)rcvent  us 
from  going  on  our  journey."  The  chief  then  dismissed 
them  with  valuable  presents,  after  having  api)ointed 
the  next  day  to  speak  to  them  again,  and  provided 
everything  that  they  needed  or  wished  for. 

Next  day  they  were  again  summoned  to  appear  be- 
fore the  king,  lie  again  tried  to  dissuade  them,  lie 
said  he  would  send  them  back  to  their  country  in  one 
of  his  vessels  :  but  all  he  said  had  no  elTect.  *'  Well," 
suid  he,  "if  you  will  go.  I  will  furnish  you  all  that  is 
needed  for  your  journey."  He  had  everything  i)ro- 
vided  accordingly,  lie  told  them,  that  three  days  be- 
fore they  reached  the  ]5ad  Si)irit  he  had  warned  them 
of,  they  would  hear  his  Slu'shegwun.f  lie  cautioned 
them  to  be  wise,  for  lie  felt  that  he  should  never  sec 
them  all  again. 

They  resumed  their  journey,  and  travelled  sometimes 
through  villages,  but  they  soon  left  them  behind  and 
])asscd  over  a  region  of  forests  and  plains,  without  in- 
habitants. They  found  all  the  productions  of  a  new 
country  :  trees,  animals,  birds,  were  entirely  different 
from  those  they  were  accustomed  to,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  great  waters.  They  travelled,  and  travelled,  till 
they  wore  out  all  of  the  clothiug  that  had  been  ghven 
to  them,  and  had   to  take    to  their  leather  clothiug 


again. 


The  three  days  the  chief  spoke  of  meant  three  years, 
for  it  was  only  at  the  end  of  the  third  year,  that  they 
came  within  the  sight  of  the  spirit's  slicshegwun.  The 
sound  appeared  to  be  near,  l)ut  they  contiuueil  walking 
on,  day  after  <Iay,  without  apparently  getting  any 
nearer  to  it.     Suddenly  they  came  to  a  very  extensive 

*  A  rattle. 


11 


rfl 


m 


m 


i'3 


^ 


286 


IOSCO ;  OR, 


,'lf 


li' 


plain ;  they  could  see  the  blue  ridges  of  distant  moun- 
tains rising  on  the  horizon  beyond  it ;  they  pushed  on, 
thinking  to  get  over  the  plain  before  night,  but  they 
were  overtaken  by  darkness  ;  they  were  now  on  a  stony 
part  of  the  plain,  covered  by  about  a  foot's  depth  of 
water ;  they  were  weary  and  fatigued ;  some  of  them 
said,  let  us  lie  down ;  no,  no,  said  the  others,  let  us 
push  on.  Soon  they  stood  on  firm  ground,  but  it  was 
as  much  as  they  could  do  to  stand,  for  they  were  very 
weary.  They,  however,  made  an  effort  to  encamp, 
lighted  up  a  fire,  and  refreshed  themselves  by  eating. 
They  then  commenced  conversing  about  the  sound  of 
the  spirit's  sheshegwun,  which  they  had  heard  for  se- 
veral days.  Suddenly  the  instrument  commenced  ;  it 
sounded  as  if  it  was  subterraneous,  and  it  shook  the 
ground :  they  tied  up  their  bundles  and  went  toward 
the  spot.  They  soon  came  to  a  large  building,  which 
was  illuminated.  As  soon  as  they  came  to  the  door, 
they  were  met  by  a  rather  elderly  man.  *'  Uow  do  ye 
do,"  said  he,  "  my  grandsons  ?  Walk  in,  walk  in  ;  I 
am  glad  to  see  you  :  I  knew  when  you  started :  I  saw 
you  encamp  this  evening :  sit  down,  and  tell  me  the 
news  of  the  country  you  left,  for  I  feel  interested  in  it." 
They  complied  with  his  wishes,  and  when  they  had 
concluded,  each  one  presented  him  with  a  piece  of  to- 
bacco, lie  then  revealed  to  them  things  that  would 
happen  in  their  journey,  and  predicted  its  successful 
accomplishment.  "I  do  not  say  that  all  of  you,"  said 
he,  **  will  successfully  go  through  it.  You  have  passed 
over  three-fourths  of  your  way,  and  I  will  tell  you  how 
to  proceed  after  you  get  to  the  edge  of  the  earth. 
Soon  after  you  leave  this  place,  you  will  hear  a  deafen- 
ing sound  :  it  is  the  sky  descending  on  the  edge,  but  it 
keeps  moving  up  and  down  ;  you  will  watch,  and  when 


ant  moun- 
pushcd  on, 
t,  but  tliey 
on  a  stony 
's  depth  of 
le  of  them 
lers,  let  us 
,  but  it  was 
y  were  very 
to  encamp,        , 
s  by  eating, 
the  sound  of 
icard  for  se- 
mmenced;  it 
it  shook  the 
went  toward 
ilding,  which 
to  the  door, 
««lIow  do  ye 
1,  walk  iu  ;  I 
arted:  I  saw 
d  tell  me  the 
Lercsted  in  it. 
hen  they  had 
a  piece  of  to- 
gs that  would 
its  successful 

I  of  you,"  said 
ou  have  passed 

II  tell  you  how 
of  the  earth, 
bear  a  deafeu- 

,hc  edge,  but  it 
iitch,  and  when 


THE  rRAlRIE-BOYS'  VISIT  TO  THE  SUN  AND  MOON.      281 

it  moves  up,  you  will  see  a  vacant  space  between  it 
and  the  earth.  You  must  not  be  afraid.  A  chasm  of 
awful  depth  is  there,  which  separates  the  unknown  from 
this  earth,  and  a  veil  of  darkness  conceals  it.  Fear 
not.  You  must  leap  through  ;  and  if  you  succeed,  you 
will  find  yourselves  on  a  beautiful  plain,  and  in  a  soft 
and  mild  light  emitted  by  the  moon."  They  thanked 
him  for  his  advice.     A  pause  ensued. 

"I  have  told  you  the  way,"  he  said  ;  "  now  tell  me 
again  of  the  country  you  have  left ;  for  I  committed 
dreadful  ravages  while  I  was  there  :  does  not  the  country 
show  marks  of  it  ?  and  do  not  the  inhabitants  tell  of 
me  to  their  children  ?  I  came  to  this  place  to  mourn 
over  my  bad  actions,  and  am  trying,  by  my  present 
course  of  life,  to  relieve  my  mind  of  the  load  that  is  on 
it."  They  told  him  that  their  fathers  spoke  often  of  a 
celebrated  personage  called  Manabozho,  who  performed 
great  exploits.  **  I  am  he,"  said  the  Spirit.  They 
gazed  with  astonishment  and  fear.  "Do  you  see  this 
pointed  house  ?"  said  he,  pointing  to  one  that  resom- 
hled  a  sugar-loaf;  "  you  can  now  each  speak  your 
wishes,  and  will  be  answered  from  that  house.  Speak 
out,  and  ask  what  each  wants,  and  it  shall  be  granted." 
One  of  them,  who  was  vain,  asked  with  presumption, 
that  he  might  live  forever,  and  never  be  in  want.  lie 
was  answered,  "Your  wish  shall  be  granted."  The 
second  made  the  same  request,  and  received  the  same 
answer.  The  third  asked  to  live  longer  than  common 
people,  and  to  be  always  successful  in  his  war  excur- 
sions, never  losing  any  of  his  young  men.  lie  was 
told,  "  Your  wishes  are  granted."  The  fourth  joined 
in  the  same  request,  and  received  the  same  reply.  The 
fifth  made  an  humble  request,  asking  to  live  as  long  as 
men  generally  do,  and  that  he  miglit  be  crowned  with 


m 

If 


Mi 


*4 


.4. 


288 


IOSCO ;  ou, 


such  success  in  Imnting  as  to  be  able  to  provide  for 
his  parents  and  relatives.  The  sixth  made  the  same 
request,  and  it  was  granted  to  both,  in  pleasing  tones, 
from  the  pointed  house. 

After  hearing  these  responses  they  prepared  to  depart. 
They  were  told  by  Manabozho,  that  they  had  been 
with  him  but  one  day,  but  they  afterward  found  that 
they  had  remained  there  upward  of  a  year.  When 
they  were  on  the  point  of  setting  out,  Manabozho  ex- 
claimed, "  Stopl  you  two,  who  asked  me  for  eternal  life, 
will  receive  the  boon  you  wish  immediately."  lie 
spake,  and  one  was  turned  into  a  stone  called  Shin- 
gauba-wossin,*  and  the  other  into  acedar  tree.  "Now," 
said  he  to  the  others,  "you  can  go."  They  left  him  in 
fear,  saying,  "We  were  fortunate  to  escape  so,  for  the 
king  told  us  he  was  wicked,  and  that  we  should  not 
probably  escape  from  him."  They  had  not  proceeded 
far,  when  they  began  to  hear  the  sound  of  the  beating 
sky.  It  appeared  to  be  near  at  hand,  but  they  had  a 
long  interval  to  travel  before  they  came  near,  and  the 
sound  was  then  stunning  to  their  senses ;  for  when  the 
sky  came  down,  its  pressure  would  force  gusts  of  wind 
from  the  opening,  so  strong  that  it  was  with  difficulty 
they  could  keep  their  feet,  and  the  sun  passed  but  a  short 
distance  above  their  heads.  They  however  approached 
boldly,  but  had  to  wait  sometime  before  they  could  mus- 
ter courage  enough  to  leap  through  the  dark  veil  that 
covered  the  passage.  The  sky  would  come  down  with 
violence,  but  it  would  rise  slowly  and  gradually.      The 


*  A  hard  primitive  stone,  frequently  found  along  the  hor- 
dt^rs  of  the  lakes  and  watercourses,  generally  fretted  into 
image  shapes.  Hardness  and  indestructibility  are  regarded 
an  its  eharacturistics  by  the  Indians.     It  is  often  granite. 


THE  rUAIRIE-BOYS'  VISIT  TO  THE  SUN  AM)  MOON.      289 

two  who  had  made  the  humble  request,  stood  near  the 
edge,  and  with  no  little  exertion  succeeded,  one  after  the 
other,  in  leaping  through,  and  gaining  a  firm  foothold. 
The  remaining  two  were  fearful  and  undecided :  the 
others  spoke  to  them  through  the  darkness,  saying, 
"Leap !  leap  I  the  sky  is  on  its  way  down."  These  two 
looked  up  and  saw  it  descending,  hut  fear  paralyzed 
their  efforts;  they  made  but  a  feeble  attempt,  so  as  to 
reach  the  opposite  side  with  their  hands ;  but  the  sky 
at  the  same  time  struck  on  the  earth  with  great  violence 
and  a  terrible  sound,  and  forced  them  into  the  dreadful 
black  chasm. 

The  two  successful  adventurers,  of  whom  Iosco 
now  was  chief,  found  themselves  in  a  beautiful  countr), 
lighted  by  the  moon,  which  shed  around  a  mild  and 
pleasant  light.  They  could  see  the  moon  approach- 
ing as  if  it  were  from  behind  a  hill.  Tliey  ad- 
vanced, and  an  aged  woman  spoke  to  them ;  she  had 
a  white  face  and  pleasing  air,  and  looked  rather  old, 
though  she  spoke  to  them  very  kindly :  they  knew 
from  her  first  appearance  that  she  was  the  moon  :  she 
asked  them  several  questions :  she  told  them  that  she 
knew  of  their  coming,  and  was  happy  to  see  them :  she 
informed  them  that  they  were  half  way  to  her  brother's, 
and  that  from  the  earth  to  her  abode  w^as  half  the  dis- 
tance. "I  will,  by  and  by,  have  leisure,"  said  she, 
"  and  will  go  and  conduct  you  to  my  brother,  for  he  is 
now  absent  on  his  daily  course :  you  will  succeed  in 
your  object,  and  return  in  safety  to  your  country  and 
friends,  with  the  good  wishes,  I  am  sure,  of  my  bro- 
ther." While  the  travellers  were  with  her,  they  re- 
ceived every  attention.  When  the  proper  time  arrived, 
she  said  to  them,  "  My  brother  is  now  rising  from  be- 
low, and  we  shall  see  his  light  as  he  comes  over  the 
25 


If 

j|i:ii 

m 

'    «l    :; 

'1^1 


#1l 


I  I 

I 


% 


I 


290 


IOSCO ;  OK, 


r  ^;! 


■: 


distant  e(l<?c:  conio,"  said  she,  "I  will  lead  you  up." 
Tliey  went  forwanl,  hut  in  some  mysterious  way,  tliey 
hardly  knew  how  :  they  rose  almost  directly  up,  as  if 
they  had  ascended  steps.  They  then  came  upon  an  im- 
mense plain,  declining  in  the  direction  of  the  sun's  ap- 
proach. When  he  came  near,  the  moon  spake — "  I 
have  brought  you  these  persons,  whom  we  knew  were 
coming;"  and  with  this  she  disappeared.  The  sun  mo- 
tioned with  his  hand  for  them  to  follow  him.  They  did 
so,  but  found  it  rather  diflicult,  as  the  way  was  steep  : 
they  found  it  particularly  so  from  the  edge  of  the  earth 
till  they  got  halfway  between  that  point  and  midday : 
when  they  reached  this  spot,  the  sun  stopped,  and  sat 
down  to  rest.  "What,  my  children,"  said  he,  "has 
brought  you  here  ?  I  could  not  speak  to  you  before  :  I 
could  not  stop  at  any  i)lace  but  this,  for  this  is  my  first 
resting-place — then  at  the  centre,  which  is  at  midday, 
and  then  halfway  from  that  to  the  western  edge.* 
"  Tell  me,"  he  continued,  "  the  object  of  your  under- 
taking this  journey  and  all  the  circumstances  which 
have  happened  to  you  on  the  way."  They  complied. 
Iosco  told  him  their  main  object  was  to  see  him.  They 
had  lost  four  of  their  friends  on  the  way,  and  they 
wished  to  know  whether  they  could  return  in  safety  to 
the  earth,  that  they  might  inform  their  friends  and 
relatives  of  all  that  had  befallen  them.  They  concluded 
by  requesting  him  to  grant  their  wishes,  lie  replied, 
"Yes,  you  shall  certainly  return  in  safety;  but  your 
companions  were  vain  and  presumptuous  in  their  de- 


*  This  computation  of  tiino  separates  the  day  iuto  four 
portions  of  six  hours  eacli — two  of  which,  from  1  to  G,  and 
from  G  to  12  A.  M.  compose  tlie  mornimj,  and  the  other  two, 
from  1  to  G,  and  from  G  to  111  P.  M.  compose  tlie  cveitiixj. 


THE  prairie-boys'  visit  to  the  sun  and  moon.    291 


:r:" 


niands.  Tlioy  wore  Gug-ge-baw-diz-ze-wug'.*  They 
asj)ired  to  what  Maiiitocs  only  could  enjoy.  But  you 
two,  as  I  said,  shall  get  back  to  your  country,  and 
become  as  hai)py  as  the  hunter's  life  can  make  you. 
You  shall  never  be  in  want  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  as 
long  as  you  are  permitted  to  live;  and  you  will  have 
the  satisfaction  of  relating  your  journey  to  your  friends, 
and  also  of  telling  them  of  me.  Follow  me,  follow  me," 
he  said,  commencing  his  course  again.  The  ascent 
was  now  gradual,  and  they  soon  came  to  a  level  plain. 
After  travelling  some  time  he  again  sat  down  to  rest, 
for  we  had  arrived  at  Xau-we-qua.|  "  You  see,"  said 
he,  "  it  is  level  at  this  place,  but  a  short  distance  on- 
wards, my  way  descends  gradually  to  my  last  resting- 
place,  from  which  there  is  an  abrupt  descent."  lie 
repeated  his  assurance  that  they  should  i)e  shielded  from 
danger,  if  they  relied  firmly  on  his  power.  "Come 
here  quickly,"  he  said,  placing  something  before  them 
on  which  they  could  descend  ;  "  keep  firm,"  said  he, 
as  they  resumed  the  descent.  They  went  downward  as 
if  they  had  been  let  down  by  roi)es. 

In  the  mean  time  the  parents  of  these  two  young  men 
dreamed  that  their  sons  were  returning,  and  that  they 
should  soon  sec  them.  They  placed  the  fullest  confi- 
dence in  their  dreams.  Early  in  the  morning  they  left 
their  lodges  for  a  remote  point  in  the  forest,  where 
they  expected  to  meet  them.  They  were  not  long  at 
the  place  before  they  saw  the  adventurers  returning,  for 
they  had  descended  not  far  from  that  place.  The 
young  men  knew  they  were  their  fathers.     They  met, 


ii  i 


t 

f   > 


Hi 


.*  1 


*  This  is  a  vovl»al  form,  plural  minilK-r,  of  the  transitive 
adjcftivo — fuulirili. 

t  Midday,  or  middle  liiio. 


292        IOSCO ;  or,  the  prairie-koys'  vjsit,  etc. 

and  were  happy.  Tlioy  related  all  that  luid  l)erallen 
them.  Tiiey  did  not  conceal  anything; ;  and  they  ex- 
]>ressed  their  jrratitndc  to  the  dillerent  Manitoes  who 
liad  preserved  them,  by  feastin*^  and  jrifts,  and  particn- 
larlv  to  the  sun  and  moon,  who  had  received  them  as 
their  children. 


■fallen 
17  cx- 
s  wlio 
irticn- 
cm  as 


THE  ENCHANTED  MOCCASINS. 


ODJIliWA. 


'-1 
til 
'  I'' 


i  I 


There  once  lived  a  little  boy,  all  alone  with  his  sis- 
ter, in  a  very  wild  uninhabitable  country.  Tliey  saw 
nothing  but  beasts,  and  birds,  the  sky  above  them,  and 
the  earth  beneath  them.  But  there  were  no  human  be- 
ings besides  themselves.  The  boy  often  retired  to 
think,  in  lone  places,  and  the  ojiinion  was  formed  that 
he  had  supernatural  powers.  It  was  su|)i)osed  that  he 
would  perform  some  extraordinary  exploits,  and  he  was 
called  Onwe  Bahmondoong,  or  he  that  carries  a  ball  on 
his  back.  As  he  grew  up  he  was  impatient  to  know 
whetherthere  were  other  beings  near  them:  she  replied, 
that  there  was,  but  they  lived  in  a  remote  distance. 
There  was  a  large  village  of  hunters  and  warriors.  Be- 
ing now  well  grown,  he  determined  to  seek  his  fortune, 
and  asked  her  to  make  him  several  pairs  of  moccasins 
to  last  him  on  the  journey.  With  this  request  she  com- 
plied. Then  taking  his  bow  and  arrows,  and  his  war- 
club,  and  a  little  sack  containing  his  nawajrpo,  or  travel- 
ling victuals,  he  immediately  set  out  on  his  journey. 
lie  travelled  on,  not  knowing  exactly  where  he  went. 
Hills,  plains,  trees,  rocks,  forests,  meadows,  spread  be- 
fore him.  Sometimes  he  killed  an  animal,  sometimes  a 
bird.  The  deer  often  started  in  l»is  path.  He  saw  the 
fox,  the  bear,  and  the  ground-hog.  The  eagles  screamed 


M 


•  '*■  j  II 


If 


.' 


294 


ONWE  IJAIIMONDOONO ; 


above  him.  Tlio  ducks  cliattercd  in  tlic  ponds  and 
lakes,  lie  lay  down  and  slept  when  he  was  tired,  he 
rose  up  when  he  was  refreshed.  At  last  he  came  to  a 
small  wigwam,  and,  on  looking  into  it,  discovered  a 
very  old  woman  sitting  alone  by  the  fire.  As  soon  as 
she  saw  the  stranger,  she  invited  him  in,  and  thus  ad- 
dressed him:  "Aly  poor  grandchild,  I  suppose  you 
are  one  of  those  who  seek  for  the  distant  village,  from 
which  no  person  has  ever  yet  returned.  Unless  your 
guardian  is  more  powerful  than  the  guardian  of  your 
]>redecessors,  you  too  will  share  a  similar  fate  of  theirs. 
]ie  careful  to  provide  yourself  with  the  Ozhebahguh- 
nun — the  bones  they  use  in  the  medicine  dance* — with- 
out which  you  cannot  succeed."  After  she  had  thus 
spoken,  she  gave  him  the  following  directions  for  his 
journey.  "When  you  come  near  to  the  village  which 
you  seek,  you  will  see  in  the  centre  a  large  lodge,  in 
which  the  chief  of  the  village,  who  has  two  daughters, 
resides.  Before  the  door  you  will  see  a  great  tree, 
which  is  smooth  and  destitute  of  bark.  On  this  tree, 
about  the  height  of  a  man  from  the  ground,  a  small 
lodge  is  suspended,  in  which  these  two  daughters  dwell. 
It  is  here  so  many  have  been  destroyed.  ]}e  wise,  my 
grandchild,  and  abide  strictly  l)y  my  directions."  The 
old  woman  then  giive  him  the  Ozhebahguhiuin,  which 
would  cause  his  success.  Placing  them  in  his  bosom, 
he  continued  his  journey,  till  at  length  he  arrived  at 
the  sought-for  village  ;  and,  as  he  was  gazing  around 
him,  he  saw  l)oth  the  tree  and  the  lodge  which  the  old 
woman  had  mentioned.     Immediately  he  bent  his  steps 


*  The  idea  attju'luMl  to  tlic  use  of  tlieso  lionos  in  tlio  nicdi- 
cino  (laiK'o  is,  tiiat,  hy  thoir  iiiii_u'''al  inlluciiot.',  tlio  actor  can 
l>oiK'tratL'  and  go  tliiougli  any  sub.stancc. 


THE  ENCHANTED  MOCCASINS. 


295 


I 


,1  •■ 


Is  antl 
•ed,  1»<3 
lie  to  a 
cred  a 
soon  as 
hus  ad- 
)se  you 
re,  from 
;ss  YOur 
of  your 
>f  theirs. 
bul»p:uh- 
^■. — with- 
liad  thus 
IS  for  his 
ge  Nvljich 
iodpjo,  iu 
!iu;j;hters, 
reat  tree, 
this  tree, 
1,  a  small 
crsdweU. 

wise,  my 
The 


hs 


V 


lun,  which 
ids  bosom, 
iirrived  at 
\\ir  uronnd 
eh  the  ohl 
It  his  ste^s 

i\  tlio  moiV\- 
0  aitor  can 


for  the  tree,  and  approacldnjr,  he  endeavored  to  reaeh 
the  snsi)eiided  lodge.  But  all  his  ctlbrts  ^vere  vain  ; 
for  as  often  as  he  attempted  to  reach  it,  the  tree  began 
to  tremble,  and  soon  shot  up  so  that  the  lodge  could 
hardly  be  perceived.  Foiled  as  he  was  in  all  his  at- 
tempts, ho  thought  of  his  guardian  and  changed  him- 
self into  a  small  scpiirrel,  that  he  might  more  easily 
accomplish  his  design,  lie  then  mounted  the  tree  in 
quest  of  the  lodge.  After  climbing  for  some  time,  he 
became  fatigued,  and  panted  for  breath  ;  but,  remondjer- 
ing  the  instructions  which  the  old  woman  had  given 
him,  he  took  from  his  bosom  one  of  the  bones,  jind 
thrust  it  into  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  on  which  he  sat. 
In  this  way  he  quickly  found  relief;  and,  as  often  as 
he  became  fatigued,  he  repeated  this  ;  but  whenever 
he  came  near  the  lodge  and  attem{)ted  to  toneh  it,  the 
tree  would  shoot  up  as  before,  and  i)lace  the  lodge  he- 
yond  his  reach.  At  length,  the  bones  being  exliaustecl, 
he  I)egan  to  despair,  for  the  earth  had  long  since  van- 
ished from  his  sight.  Summoning  all  resolution,  he 
determined  to  make  another  ell'ort  to  reach  the  object  of 
his  wishes.  On  he  went ;  yet,  as  soon  as  he  came  near 
the  lodge  and  attempted  to  toucl-  it,  the  tree  again  shook, 
but  it  hs!d  reached  the  arch  of  heaven,  and  could  go  no 
higher;  so  now  he  entered  the  lodge,  an<l  beheld  the 
two  sisters  sitting  opposite  each  other,  lie  asked  their 
names.  The  one  on  his  left  hand  called  herself  Aziiu- 
bee,'*"  and  the  one  on  the  right  >Jegahnuhl)ee.f  ^V'hen- 
ever  he  addressed  the  one  on  his  left  hand,  the  tree 
would  tremble  as  before,  and  settle  down  to  its  former 
position.  But  when  he  addressed  the  one  on  his  right 
hand,  it  would  again  shoot  upwanl  as  before.     AVheJi 


IT 


i! 


:  n 


-  ^  1 

'tP, 


!   M 


i  li 


*  Ono  who  sits  ln'hind. 


\  'Jiio  wlio  sits  bffore. 


296 


OiWVE  3JAIIMONDOONG  ; 


;  ! 


he  thus  discovered  that,  by  addressing  the  one  on  his 
left  hand,  the  tree  would  descend,  he  continued  to  do 
so  until  it  liad  resumed  its  former  position  ;  then  seiz- 
in*? his  war-chil),  he  thus  addressed  the  sisters  :  "  You, 
who  have  caused  the  death  of  so  many  of  my  brothers, 
I  will  now  put  an  end  to,  and  thus  have  revenge  for 
the  numbers  you  have  destroyed."  As  he  said  this  he 
raised  the  club  and  laid  them  dead  at  his  feet.  He 
then  descended,  and  learning  that  these  sisters  had  a 
brother  living  with  their  father,  who  would  pursue  him 
for  the  deed  he  had  done,  he  set  off  at  random,  not 
knowing  whither  he  went.  Soon  after,  the  father  and 
mother  of  the  young  women  visited  their  residence  and 
found  their  renuiins.  They  immediately  told  their  son 
Mudjikcwis  that  his  sisters  had  been  slain,  lie  replied, 
"  The  person  who  has  done  this  must  be  the  lioy  that 
carries  the  JJall  on  his  ]5ack.  I  will  pursue  him,  and 
have  revenge  for  the  blood  of  my  sisters."  "It  is 
well,  my  son,"  replied  the  father.  "  Tlie  si)irit  of  your 
life  grant  you  success.  I  counsel  you  to  be  wary  in 
the  pursuit.  It  is  a  strong  spirit  who  has  done  this 
injury  to  us,  and  he  will  try  to  deceive  you  in  every 
way.  Above  all,  avoid  tasting  food  till  you  succeed ; 
for  if  you  break  your  fast  before  you  see  his  blood, 
your  power  will  be  destroyed."  So  saying,  they 
])arted. 

His  son  instantly  set  out  in  search  of  the  murderer, 
who,  finding  he  was  closely  pursued  by  tlie  brother  of 
the  slain,  climbed  n\)  into  one  of  the  tallest  trees  and 
shot  forth  his  magic  arrows.  Finding  that  his  pursuer 
was  not  turned  back  by  his  arrows,  he  renewed  his 
(light;  and  when  he  found  himself  hard  i)ressed,  and 
his  eneniv  close  behind  him,  he  transfornied  himself 
into  the  skeleton  of  a  moose  tliat  had  been  killed,  whose 


^^^^^^^^^P  * 


THE  ENCHANTED  MOCCASINS. 


291 


on  hia 
to  do 
i  sciz- 
'  You, 
atbers, 
o-c  for 
this  he 
t.     He 
;  had  a 
;ue  him 
3m,  not 
her  and 
nee  and 
lieir  son 
replied, 
5oy  that 
lim,  and 

"  It  is 
,  of  your 

wary  in 
one  tiiis 
in  every 
succeed ; 
is  l)lood, 
ng,   they 

nurdercr, 
)rothcr  of 
trees  and 
is  pursuer 
icwed  his 
.ss(m1,  and 
(I  himself 
led,  whose 


■■ 


flesh  had  come  ofT  from  liis  bones.  He  tlien  remember- 
ed the  moccasins  which  Ins  sister  had  given  liiuj,  which 
were  enchanted.  Taking  a  pair  of  them,  lie  jthiced 
tliem  near  the  skeleton.  "IJo,"  said  he  to  them,  "to 
the  end  of  the  earth." 

The  moccasins  then  left  him  and  their  tracks  re- 
mained. Mudjikcwis  at  length  came  to  the  skeleton 
of  the  moose,  when  he  perceived  that  the  track  he  had 
long  been  pursuing  did  not  end  there,  so  he  continued 
to  follow  it  up,  till  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  earth, 
where  he  found  only  a  pair  of  moccasins.  Mortified 
that  he  had  been  outwitted  by  following  a  pair  of  moc- 
casins instead  of  the  o!)ject  of  his  revenge,  he  bitterly 
complained,  resolving  not  to  give  up  the  ])ursuit,  and 
to  be  more  wary  and  wise  in  scrutinizing  signs.  }[q 
then  called  to  mind  the  skeleton  he  met  on  his  way, 
and  concluded  that  it  must  be  tho  object  of  his  search. 
He  retraced  his  steps  towards  the  skeleton,  but  found, 
to  his  surprise,  that  it  had  disappeared,  and  that  tho 
tracks  of  Onwe  Buhmondoom/^  or  he  who  carries  the 
]iall,  were  in  another  direction.  He  now  became  faint 
with  hunger,  and  resolved  to  give  uj)  the  ])ursult;  but?' 
when  he  remembered  the  blood  of  his  sisters,  he  deter- 
mined again  to  i)ursue. 

The  other,  finding  he  was  closely  ])ursued,  now 
changed  himself  into  a  very  old  man,  with  two  daugh- 
ters, who  lived  in  a  large  lodge  in  the  centre  of  a  l)eau- 
tlful  garden,  which  was  filled  with  everything  that  could 
delight  the  eye  or  was  pleasant  to  the  taste.  He  made 
himself  ajjpear  so  very  old  as  to  be  unable  to  leave  his 
lodge,  and  had  his  daughters  to  bring  him  food  and 
wait  on  him.  The  garden  also  had  the  np))earanee  of 
ancient  occupancy,  and  was  highly  cultivated. 

His  i)ursuer  continued  on  till  he  was  nearly  starved 


v'f* 

1 

V" 

m 

-  ■  1 

Vt.»     i  i'jl 

1 

] 

i:i; 


%:i 


i 


i 

I: 


'-  ,■*- 


298 


TFFR   ENCHANTED   MOCCASINS. 


and  ready  to  sink.  He  exclaimed,  "  Oli !  I  will  forjiX't 
the  blood  of  my  sisters,  fur  1  am  starving;"  but  again 
he  thonght  of  the  blood  of  his  sisters,  and  again  he 
resolved  to  pursue,  and  be  satisfied  with  nothing  but 
the  attainment  of  his  right  to  revenge. 

He  went  on  till  he  came  to  the  beautiful  garden. 
]Ie  ai>[)roached  the  lodge.  As  soon  as  the  daughters 
of  the  owner  perceived  him,  they  ran  and  tuld  their 
father  that  a  stranger  approached  the  lodge.  Their 
father  replied,  "  Invite  him  in,  my  children,  invite  him 
in."  They  quickly  did  so;  and  by  the  command  of 
their  father,  they  boiled  some  corn  and  prepared  other 
savory  food.  Mudjikewis  had  no  suspicion  of  the 
deception,  lie  was  faint  and  weary  with  travel,  and 
felt  that  he  could  endure  fasting  no  longer.  AVithout 
hesitancy,  he  partook  heartily  of  the  meal,  and  in  so 
doing  was  overcome.  All  at  once  he  seemed  to  forget 
the  blood  of  his  sisters,  and  even  the  village  of  his  na- 
tivity, lie  ate  so  heartily  as  to  produce  drowsiness, 
and  soon  fell  into  a  ])rofound  sleep.  Onwe  IJahmon- 
doong  watched  his  opportunity,  and,  as  soon  as  he  found 
his  sluml)ers  sound,  resumed  his  youthful  form.  He 
then  drew  the  magic  ball  from  his  back,  which  turned 
out  to  be  a  heavy  war-club,  with  one  blow  of  which  he 
put  an  end  to  his  pursuer,  and  thus  vindicated  his  title 
as  the  Wearer  of  the  IJall. 


m 


I 


"orgct 
ap:ain 
liii  l»c 
"•  but 

ardcn. 
t!;hters 
I  their 

Their 
ite  him 
laiul  of 
d  other 
of  the 
rel,  and 
Yithout 
d  in  so 
0  forget 

his  ua- 
wsiness, 
)i\hinon- 
he  found 
in.  He 
h  turned 
^vhieh  he 

his  title 


if 


LKELINAU. 


A  CHIPPEWA  TALK. 


The  Pukwudjininces,  or  fairies  of  Lake  Superior,  liad 
one  of  their  most  noted  i)laces  of  res1(U'nee  at  tlie 
♦rreat  sand  dunes  of  Koiffow  Wndjoo,  called  by  the 
French  La  Grandes  Sdhles.  lEere  they  were  fre- 
quently seen  in  bright  mooidight  evenings,  and  the 
lishermcn  while  sitting  in  their  canoes  on  the  lake  of- 
ten saw  them  playing  their  pranks,  and  skipping  over 
the  hills.  There  was  a  grove  of  ])ines  in  that  vicinity 
called  the  manito  wac,  or  Sjjirit  wood,  into  which  they 
might  be  seen  to  flee,  on  the  approach  of  evening,  and 
there  is  a  romantic  little  lake  on  those  elevated  sand-hills, 
not  far  back  from  the  Great  liake,  on  the  shores  of  which 
their  tracks  could  be  plainly  seen  in  the  sand.  These 
tracks  were  not  bigger  than  little  children's  footprints, 
and  the  spirits  were  often  seen  in  the  act  of  vanishing 
behind  the  little  pine-trees.  They  love  to  dance  in  the 
most  lonesome  jdaces,  and  were  always  full  of  glee  and 
merriment,  for  their  little  voices  could  be  plainly  lizard. 
These  little  men,  the  ])ukwu<ljininees,  are  not  deeply 
nudicions,  but  rather  delighted  in  mischief  and  freaks, 
and  would  sometimes  steal  away  a  fishermairs  paddle, 
or  come  at  night  and  ])lnck  the  hunter's  feathers  out  of 
his  cap  in  the  lodge,  or  i)ilfer  away  some  of  his  game, 
or  fish.     On  one  occasion  thev  went  so  far  us  to  entice 


III 


^  ,, 


1* 


If 

til 


I 


1^ 


300 


LEELINAU ; 


i 


!      f 
i     I 


away  into  their  sacred  grove,  and  carry  off  a  chief's 
daughter — a  small  but  beautiful  girl,  who  had  been 
always  inclined  to  be  pensive,  and  took  her  seat  often 
in  these  lonesome  haunts.  From  her  baby  name  of 
Neenizu,  my  dear  life,  she  was  called  Leelinau,  but 
she  never  attained  to  much  size,  remaining  very  slen- 
der, but  of  the  most  pleasing  and  sylph-like  features, 
with  very  bright  black  eyes,  and  little  feet.  Her 
mother  often  cautioned  her  of  the  danger  of  visiting 
these  lonely  fairy  haunts,  and  predicted,  playfully,  that 
she  would  one  day  be  carried  off  by  the  Pukwudjees, 
for  they  were  very  frolicsome,  mischievous  and  full  of 
tricks. 

To  divert  her  mind  from  these  recluse  moods  and 
tastes,  she  endeavored  to  bring  about  an  alliance  with 
a  neighboring  forester,  who,  though  older  than  her- 
self, had  the  reputation  of  being  an  excellent  hunter, 
and  active  man,  and  he  had  even  creditably  been  on 
the  war  path,  though  he  had  never  brought  home  a 
scalp.  To  these  suggestions  Leelinau  had  turned  rather 
a  deaf  ear.  She  had  imbibed  ideas  of  a  spiritual  life  and 
existence,  which  she  fancied  could  only  be  enjoyed  in  the 
Indian  elysium,  and  instructed  as  she  was  by  the  old 
story-tellers,  she  could  not  do  otherwise  than  deem  the 
light  and  sprightly  little  men  who  made  the  fairy  foot- 
prints as  emissaries  from  the  Happy  Lund.  For  this 
happy  land  she  sighed  and  pined.  Blood,  and  the  taking 
of  life,  she  said,  the  Great  Spirit  did  not  approve,  and  it 
could  never  be  agreeable  to  minds  of  pure  and  spiritual 
moulds.  And  she  longed  to  go  to  a  region  where  there 
was  no  weeping,  no  cares,  and  no  deaths.  If  her  parents 
laughed  at  those  notio  s  as  childish,  her  only  resource 
was  silence,  or  she  merely  revealed  here  motions  in  her 
eyes.     She  was  capable  of  the  deepest  concealment, 


I 


■■'itt 


A  CHIPPEWA  TALE. 


301 


I 


clnefs 

been 

often 
,me  of 
,u,  but 
y  slen- 
atuves, 
Her 
nsiting 
ly,  that 
'udjees, 

full  of 

)ds  and 
ice  with 
an  her- 
hunter, 
been  on 
home  a 
d  rather 
life  and 
}d  in  the 
the  old 
cem  the 
iry  foot- 
For  this 
le  taking 
e,  and  it 
spiritual 
ere  there 
r  parents 
resource 
ns  in  her 
x'iihncnt, 


and  locked  up  in  her  heart  what  she  feared  to  utter, 
or  uttered  to  deceive.     This  proved  her  ruin. 

At  length,  after  a  series  of  conversational  interviews 
on  the  subject,  she  announced  her  willingness  to  acce<le 
to  the  matrimonial  proposals,  and  the  day  was  fixed 
for  this  purpose.  She  dressed  herself  in  the  finest 
manner  possible,  putting  flowers  in  her  hair,  and  carry- 
ing a  bunch  of  wild  flowers,  mixed  with  tassels  of  the 
pine-tree  in  her  hand.  One  only  request  she  made, 
which  was  to  make  a  farewell  visit  to  the  sacred  grove 
of  the  fairies,  before  she  visited  the  nuptial  bower.  This 
was  granted,  on  the  evening  of  the  proposed  ceremony, 
while  the  bridegroom  and  his  friends  gathered  in  her 
father's  lodge,  and  impatiently  waited  her  return.  But 
they  waited  in  vain.  Night  came  but  Leelina  was  never 
more  seen,  except  by  a  fisherman  on  the  lake  siiore, 
who  conceived  that  he  had  seen  her  go  off  with  one  of 
the  tall  fairies  known  as  the  fairy  of  Green  Pines,  with 
green  plumes  nodding  o'er  his  brows ;  and  it  is  supposed 
that  she  is  still  roving  with  him  over  the  elysian  fields. 


26 


n 


1 1 J 

i 


^m 


^1 


11 

tt 

■ 

1',^ 

B  M 

1 

B^l 

■  ■! 

^1 

l. 

[| 

m' 

' 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

i 

1 

lii^ 

1 

1 

L 

1 

I  ■ 

WILD  NOTES  OF  THE  TIBBIGWUN. 


'**- 


I" 

'  -I 

''•  r 


CONTENTS. 


TlIE  PlBBIOWUX       .... 

Tjie  Chippewa  Girl 

Doubt  

Faiuy  Whisperings 

Soxo  OP  the  Opechee    . 

Chant  to  the  Fire-fly,  the  Watasee 

Fairy  Chief's  Carol     . 

SoNo  OP  a  Captive  Creek  Girl 

Female  Sonq        .... 

Male  Sono 

Love  op  the  Forest 

Light  op  Christianity  in  the  Wigwam 

The  Nocturnal  Grave  Lights 

Manito 

Niagara,  an  Allegory 

CuiLEELi,  a  Spirit's  Whisperings 

Stanzas  on  the  State  op  the  Iroquois 

The  Loon's  Foot — a  Song 

TuLco,  Prince  of  Notto 

On  presenting  a  Wild  Rose  plucked  on  the 

the  Mississippi 
The  Red  Man       .... 
The  Skeleton  wrapped  in  Gold    . 
Waub  Ojeeg's  Death  Whisperings 

To  THE  MiSCODEED 

The  Star  Family 
Song  of  the  Wolf-Brother  . 
Abbinochi     ..... 
To  Palguk  ..... 


20' 


Sources  op 


307 
307 
308 
309 
310 
311 
312 
312 
313 
313 
314 
315 
31 G 
317 
318 
319 
322 
324 
325 

326 
327 
330 
332 
333 
335 
3:39 
341 
342 


1 

If.-. 

! 

'w\ 

li   i 

t^ 

i  1 

r 

1 
1 

fii 

w 

^^? 

il  '- 


'fM 


M 


:  I 

> 
I 


\i 


I 


ii 


NOTES. 


THE   riBIJIGWUN.* 


f         ! 


I  OPE  my  voice,  not  witl  iv 
Deep,  solemn  an  '  m;." 

Of  trump  or  drum,  i 
In  eoats  of  steel,  <    jr  . 

Nor  is  my  tone,  tin;    >-  ■    ;,) 


r.    r/s  tone, 
.lot  with  sounds 
armed  squadrons  on, 
^  loody  grounds, 
unhing  storms, 


That  sweep  in  m;ui  career  through  forests  tall, 
Up-tearing  gnarled  oaks,  with  sounds  of  hellish  forms, 

That  bode  destruction  black,  and  death  to  all. 
Nor  is  it  yet  the  screaming  warrior,  loud. 

With  hand  upraised  to  mouth,  hyena-strong. 
That  tells  of  midnight  onrush,  hell-endowed, 

And  bleeding  scalp  of  aged,  mild  and  young. 
Ah  no !  it  is  a  note  that's  only  blown, 

Where  kindness  fills  the  heart,  and  every  thrill 
Is  peace  and  love,  while  music's  softer  tone 

Steals  on  the  evening  air,  its  simple  aims  to  fill. 
Waking  the  female  ear  to  carols  of  the  Pibbigwun. 

TUE  CHIPPEWA  GIRL. 

TiiEY  tell  me,  the  men  with  a  white-white  face 

Belong  to  a  purer,  nobler  race  ; 

But  why,  if  they  do,  and  it  may  bo  so. 

Do  their  tongues  cry,  "Yes" — and  their  actions,  "No?" 


*  Indian  (lute. 


M' 


! 


til 
^  If 


308  DOUBT. 

Tliey  tell  rnc,  that  white  is  a  heavenly  hue, 
And  it  may  be  so,  but  the  sky  is  blue ; 
And  the  first  of  men — as  our  old  men  say, 
Had  earth-brovvu  skins,  and  were  made  of  clay. 

But  throughout  my  life,  I've  heard  it  said, 
Tliere's  nothing  surpasses  a  tint  of  red  ; 
Oh,  the  white  man's  cheeks  look  pale  and  sad. 
Compared  to  my  beautiful  Indian  lad. 

Then  let  them  talk  of  their  race  divine, 
Their  glittering  domes,  and  sparkling  wine ; 
Give  me  a  lodge,  like  my  fathers  had. 
And  my  tall,  straight,  beautiful  Indian  lad. 


D0UJ3T. 

NiNiMosiiA,*  think'st  thou  of  mo. 
When  beneath  the  forest  tree  .' 
Do'st  thou  in  the  passing  wind, 
Catoh  the  sighs  I've  cast  behiJid  ? 
Ah !  I  fear — I  fear — I  fear, 
Kvil  bird  hath  filled  thine  ear. 


Ninimoslia,  in  the  clear  blue  sky, 
Canst  thou  read  my  constancy, 
Or  in  whispering  branches  near, 
Aught  from  thy  true  lover  hear  { 
Ah  !  I  ft;ar — I  f-ar — I  fear. 
Evil  bird  hath  filled  thine  ear. 


*  My  sweetheart. 


FAIRY  WHISPERINGS. 


309 


FAIRY  WHISPERINGS, 

Supposed  to  be  addressed  to,  and  responded  hy  a  young  pine- 
tr.u;,  in  a  state  of  transformation. 


INVOCATION. 

Spirit  of  the  dancing  leaves, 
Hear  a  throbbing  lieait  that  grieves, 
Not  for  joys  this  worbl  can  give, 
But  the  life  that  spirits  live  : 
Spirit  of  the  foaming  billow, 
Visit  thou  my  nightly  pillow, 
Shedding  o'er  it    ilver  dreams, 
Of  tht!  mountain  itrooks  and  streams. 
Sunny  glades,  and  golden  hours. 
Such  as  suit  thy  buoyant  powers  : 
Spirit  of  the  starry  night, 
Pencil  out  tliy  Jleecy  light. 
That  my  footprints  still  my  lead 
To  the  blush-let  Miscodeed,* 
Or  the  llower  to  passion  true 
Yielding  free  its  carmine  hue  : 
Si»irit  of  the  morning  dawn, 
Waft  thy  fleecy  columns  on. 
Snowy  white,  or  tender  blue. 
Such  as  brave  men  love  to  view. 
Spirit  of  the  greenwood  plume. 
Shed  around  thy  leaf  jx'rfume, 
Such  as  springs  from  buds  of  gold 
Wliich  thy  tiny  hands  unfold. 
Spirits,  liither  .ii.ick  repair, 
Hear  a  maidei- ;»  evening  pia/er. 


W 


*  C'laytonia  Virginica. 


h 


r- 


\i 


I 


I 
I 


I 


up 


310 


SONG  OF  THE  OPECIIEE,  THE  ROBIN. 


K  E  s  r  O  X  S  K  . 

Maiden,  think  mo  not  a  tree, 

But  thine  own  dear  lover  free, 

Tall  and  youthful  in  my  bloom 

With  the  bright  green  nodding  plume. 

Thou  art  leaning  on  my  breast, 

Lean  forever  there,  and  rest ! 

Fly  from  man,  that  bloody  race, 

Pards,  assassins,  bold  and  base  ; 

Quit  their  dim,  and  false  parade 

For  the  quiet  lonely,  shade. 

Leave  the  windy  birchen  cot 

For  my  own  light  hai>py  lot  ; 

O'er  thee  I  my  veil  will  lling. 

Light  as  beetle's  silken  wing  ; 

I  will  breathe  i>erfume  of  flowers, 

O'er  thy  happy  evening  hours  ; 

I  will  in  my  shell  canoe 

Waft  thee  o'er  the  waters  blue  ; 

I  will  deck  thy  mantle  fold, 

With  the  sun's  last  rays  of  gold. 

Come,  and  on  the  mountain  free 

Rove  a  fairy  bright  with  me. 

SONG  OF  THE  OPECIIEE,  THE  ROBIN. 

The  Chippewas  relate  that  the  robin  originated  from  a  youth 
who  was  subjected  to  too  severe  a  task  of  fastiug. 

In  the  boundless  woods  there  are  berries  of  red, 

And  fruits  of  a  beautiful  blue, 
Where,  by  nature's  own  hand,  the  sweet  singers  an;  fed, 

And  to  nature  they  ever  are  true. 

We  go  not  with  arrow  and  bow  to  the  field. 

Like  men  of  the  liene  ruddy  race. 
To  take  away  lives  which  they  never  can  give, 

And  revel  the  lords  of  the  cliase. 


EVENING  CHANT  OF  INDIAN  CHILDREN. 


311 


I  ;l 


If  danger  approaches,  with  instant  alarm 

We  fly  to  our  own  leafy  woods, 
And  there,  with  an  innocent  carol  and  charm, 

We  sing  to  our  dear  little  broods. 

At  morning  wo  sally  in  quest  of  the  grain 

Kind  nature  in  plenty  supplies. 
Wo  skip  o'er  the  beautiful  wide-stretching  plain, 

And  sport  in  the  vault  of  the  skies. 

At  evening  wo  perch  in  some  neighboring  tree 

To  carol  our  evening  adieu, 
And  feel,  although  man  assert  he  is  free, 

We  only  have  liberty  true. 

We  sing  out  our  praises  to  God  and  to  man, 

We  live  as  heaven  taught  us  to  live, 
And  I  would  not  change  buck  to  mortality's  plan 

For  all  that  the  mortal  can  give. 

Here  ceased  the  sweet  singer  ;  then  pluming  his  breast, 

He  winged  the  blue  firmament  free, 
Ile}X)ating,  as  homeward  he  flew  to  his  rest, 

Tshee-ree-lee — Tshee-ree  lee — Tshee-ree-leo  ! 


EVENING  CHANT  OF   INDIAN   CHILDREN 
TO  THE  WATASEE,  THE  FlUE-FLY. 

FiRE-KLV,  fire-fly!  bright  little  thing, 
Light  me  to  bed,  and  my  song  I  will  sing. 
Give  me  your  light,  as  you  fly  o'er  n)y  head. 
That  I  may  merrily  go  to  my  bed. 
(live  me  your  light  o'er  the  grass  as  you  cro«'p. 
That  I  may  joyfully  go  to  my  sleep. 
Come,  little  fir«»-fly — come,  little  beast — 
Come!  and  I'll  make  you  to-morrow  a  feast. 
Come,  little  candle  that  flios  as  I  sing, 
Bright  little  fairy-bug — night's  little  king  ; 
Come,  and  I'll  dance  as  you  guide  me  along, 
Come,  antl  I'll  pay  you,  my  bug,  with  a  song. 


*  ' 
m 


IK  r 


m 

it} 


312 


SONG  OF  A  CAPTIVE  CHEEK  GIRL. 


-:i- 


SONG  OF  A  FAIRY  CHIEF. 

Addresseil  to  the  winds  on  transferring  his  sister  to  a  posi- 
tion as  ono  of  the  phinots  in  the  morning  sky. 

Blow,  winds,  blow,  my  sii^ter  lingers 

From  her  dwelling  in  the  sky, 
Where  the  moon  witli  ros^y  fingers 

Shall  her  cheeks  with  vermil  dye. 

Tliere  my  earliest  views  directed, 
Shall  from  her  their  brilliance  take 

And  her  smiles  through  clouds  reliected, 
Guide  me  on,  by  wood  and  lake. 

While  I  range  the  highest  mountains, 

Sport  in  valleys,  green  and  low. 
Or  beside  our  Indian  fountains, 

Raise  my  tiny  hip  hallo. 


f« 


SONG  OF  A  CAPTIVE  CREEK  GIRL, 

Who  was  an  exile  in  a  distant  northern  tribe,  confined  on  an 
island  in  Lake  Superior. 

To  sunny  vales,  to  balmy  skies. 
My  thoughts,  a  fiowery  arrow,  flies; 
I  see  the  wood,  the  bank,  the  glade. 
Where  first,  a  wild  wood  girl,  I  played. 
I  think  on  scones  and  faces  dear ; 
They  are  not  here — they  are  not  hero. 

In  this  cold  sky,  in  this  lone  isle, 

I  meet  no  friends,  no  mother's  smilo. 

I  list  the  wind,  I  list  the  wave  ; 

They  seem  like  rctiuicms  round  the  grave. 

And  all  my  heart's  young  joys  arc  gone  ; 

It  is  alone — it  is  alone. 


MALE  SONG. 


313 


•| 


a  posi- 


FEMALE  SONG. 

Mv  lovo  is  a  liunter — ho  hunts  the  fleet  deer, 
With  fusil  or  arrow,  one-half  of  the  year ; 
He  hunts  the  fleet  deer  over  mountain  and  len, 
But  his  heart  is  still  hunting  for  love  and  for  me. 

My  love  is  a  warrior  ;  when  warriors  go, 

With  fusil  or  arrow,  to  strike  the  hold  foe, 

He  treads  the  hright  war-path  with  step  bold  and  free, 

But  still  his  thoughts  wander  to  love  and  to  me. 

But  hunter  or  warrior,  where'er  he  may  go, 
To  track  the  swift  deer,  or  to  follow  the  foe, 
His  heart's  warm  desire,  field  and  forest  still  flee, 
To  go  hunting  his  love,  and  make  captive  of  mo. 


i 


m 


T»T 
IvlJ, 

ed  on  an 


MALE  SOXO. 

Mv  love,  she  gave  to  me  a  helt,  a  belt  of  texture  fine, 
Of  suowy  hue,  emboss'd  with  blue  and  scarlet  porcupine; 
Tliis  tender  braid  sustain'd  the  blade  I  drew  against  the  foe, 
And  ever  prest  upon  my  breast,  to  mark  its  ardent  glow. 
And  if  with  art  I  act  my  part,  and  bravely  fighting  stand, 
I,  in  the  din,  a  trophy  win,  that  gains  Nimosha's  hand. 

My  lovo,  she  is  a  handsome  girl,  she  has  a  sparkling  eye. 
And  a  head  of  flo^eing  raven  hair,  and  a  forehead  arched  and 

high  ; 
Her  teeth  are  whito  as  cowry  shells,  brought  from  the  distant 

sea. 
And  she  is  tall,  and  graceful  all,  and  fair  as  fair  c;  n  be. 
And  if  with  art  I  act  my  part,  and  bravely  wooing  stand, 
And  with  address  my  suit  I  press,  I  gain  Nimosha's  hand. 

Oh,  I  will  search  the  silver  brooks  for  skin  of  blackest  dye, 
And  scale  the  highest  mountain-tops,  a  warrior's  gift  to  spy ! 
I'll  place  them  where  my  lovo  shall  see,  and  know  my  present 

true ; 
Perhaps  when  sho  admirefi  the  gift,  she'll  love  the  giver,  too. 

27 


I 


il 


314 


THE  LOVE  OP  THE  FOREST. 


I 


And  if  with  art  I  act  my  part,  and  bravely  wooing  stand, 
I'll  gain  my  love's  unsullied  heart,  and  then  I'll  gain  her 
hand. 


THE  LOVE  OF  THE  FOREST. 

To  rove  with  the  wild  bird,  and  go  where  we  will, 
Oh,  this  is  the  charm  of  the  forest-life  still ! 
With  our  houses  of  bark,  aud  our  food  on  the  plain, 
Wo  are  off  like  an  eagle,  and  back  there  again. 

No  farms  can  detain  us,  no  chattels  prevent ; 

We  live  not  by  ploughing — we  thrive  not  by  rent ; 

Our  herds  rove  the  forest,  our  flocks  swim  the  floods, 

And  we  skim  the  broad  waters,  and  trip  through  the  woods. 

With  ships  not  of  oak  wood,  nor  pitchy,  nor  strong, 
We  sail  along  rivers,  and  sail  with  a  song ; 
We  care  not  for  taxes — our  laws  are  but  few  ; 
The  dart  is  our  sickle,  our  ship  the  canoe. 

If  enemies  press  us,  and  evil  fear  stray, 
We  seize  on  our  war-clubs,  and  drive  them  away. 
And  when  there  is  nothing  to  fear  or  withstand. 
We  lift  the  proud  rattle,  and  dance  on  the  land. 

In  feasting  and  dancing,  our  moments  are  gay  ; 
We  trust  in  the  God  who  made  heaven  and  day; 
We  read  no  big  volumes,  no  science  implore. 
But  ask  of  our  wise  men  to  teach  us  their  lore. 

Tlie  woods  are  our  pastuies;  we  eat  what  we  find. 
And  rush  through  the  lands  like  a  rattling  wind. 
Heaven  gave  us  the  country ;  we  cling  to  the  west. 
And,  dying,  wo  fly  to  the  Lands  of  the  Blest ! 


1 


LIGHT  OP  CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  WIGWAM.         315 

LIGHT  OF  CHKISTIAXITY  IX  TUE 
WIUWAM. 

On  why,  ye  subtle  spirits,  why 

Lift  I  my  eyes  to  yonder  floating  sky, 

Where  clouds  paint  pictures*  with  so  clear  a  hue  ? 

A  heaven  so  beautiful  it  must  be  true. 

For  if  I  but  to  earth  withdraw  my  eyes, 

And  fix  them  on  the  creature  man 
To  scan  his  acts,  the  dear,  fond  picture  dies, 

And  worse  he  seems  in  thought,  and  air,  and  plan 
Than  the  hyena,  beast  that  only  digs 
For  food,  and  not  rejoices  in  the  dart, 
Tliat  stopped  the  warm  blood  current  of  the  heart. 

Had  men  but  had  just  what  the  earth  can  give, 

It  would  be  misery,  and  lies,  and  blood, 
Pinching  and  hunger,  so  that  he  who  lives 

But  lives,  as  some  poor  outcast  drowning  in  a  flood. 
And  then — ah,  tell  me  1 — whither  goes  the  soul  ? 

Oh  why,  ye  spirits  blest,  oh  wliy 

Is  truth  so  darkened  to  the  human  eye  ? 

As  if  a  sombre  cloud  all  heaven  made  black. 

And  the  sun  shone  but  through  a  chink  or  cruck. 

Within  a  wail,  where  light  is  but  the  accident  of  thinprs, 

And  not  the  purport.     Truth  may  be  then  as  the  white  men 

write. 
And  all  our  tribes  in  a  darkness  set,  instead  of  light. 


!j'f  i 


» 


hi 


kr\ 


i 


I 


l/ii 


iifi 


316 


NOCTURNATi  GRAVE  LIGHTS. 


|i 


I: 


1' 


NOCTURNAL  GRAVE  LIGHTS. 

It  is  supposed  to  be  four  days'  journey  to  tfte  land  of  the 
dead;  wherefore,  during  four  nights,  the  Chippewas  kindle 
a  tiro  on  the  grave. 

Light  up  a  fire  upon  my  grave 

When  I  am  dead. 
'Twill  softly  shed  its  beaming  rays, 
To  guide  the  soul  its  darkling  ways  ; 
And  ever,  as  the  day's  full  light 
Goes  down  and  leaves  the  world  in  night, 
These  kindly  gleams,  with  warmth  possest, 
Shall  show  my  spirit  where  to  rest 

When  I  am  dead. 

Four  days  the  funeral  rite  renew. 

When  I  am  dead. 
While  onward  bent,  with  typic  woes, 
I  seek  the  red  man's  last  repose ; 
Let  no  rude  hand  the  flame  destroy, 
Nor  mar  the  scene  with  festive  joy  ; 
While  night  by  night,  a  ghostly  guest, 
I  journey  to  my  final  rest. 

When  I  am  dead. 

No  moral  light  directs  my  way 

When  I  am  dead. 
A  hunter's  fate,  a  warrior's  fame, 
A  shade,  a  phantom,  or  a  name. 
All  life-long  through  my  hands  have  sought, 
ITnblest,  unlettered,  and  untaught : 
Deny  me  not  the  boon  I  crave — 
A  symbol-light  upon  my  grave, 

When  I  am  dead. 


MANITO. 


317 


ii 


MANITO. 

"  Every  exhibition  of  elementary  power,  in  eartli  or  sky,  is 
deemed,  by  the  Indians,  as  a  symbolic  typo  of  a  deity."— 
Hist.  Inds. 

In  rhe  frowning  cliff,  that  high 
Glooms  above  the  passing  eye, 
Casting  spectral  shadows  tall 
Over  lower  rock  and  wall ; 
In  its  morn  and  sunset  glow, 
I  behold  a  Manito. 


L    ^ 


I 


•I 


By  the  lake  or  river  lono, 
In  the  humble  fretted  stone, 
Water-sculptured,  and,  by  chanoe, 
Cast  along  the  wave's  expanse  ; 
In  its  morn  and  sunset  glow, 
I  behold  a  Manito. 

In  whatever  'a  dark  or  new, 
And  my  senses  cannot  view, 
Complex  work,  appearance  strange. 
Arts'  advance,  or  nature's  change — 
Fearful  e'er  of  hurt  or  woe, 
I  behold  a  Manito. 

In  the  motions  of  the  sky, 
Where  the  angry  lightnings  fly, 
And  the  thunder,  dread  and  dire. 
Lifts  his  mighty  voice  in  fire — 
Awed  with  fear  of  sudden  woe, 
I  behold  a  Manito. 


■I" 


Mm 


lil 


Here  my  humble  voice  I  lift, 
Here  I  lay  my  sacred  gift, 
And,  with  heart  of  fear  and  awe, 
Raise  my  loud  Wan-la-le-au. 

2T* 


i' 


! 


1 


r 
,ti.. ) 


iM 


§s 


318  NIAGARA,  AN  ALLEOOUY. 

Spirit  of  the  fields  above, 
Tlieo  I  fear,  and  Thee  I  love, 
Whether  joy  betide  or  woo. 
Thou,  tliou  art  my  Manito. 

NIAGARA,  AN  ALLEGORY. 

An  old  gray  man  on  a  mountain  lived. 

He  had  daughters  four  and  one, 
And  a  tall  bright  lodge  of  the  betula  bark 

That  glittered  in  the  sun. 

He  lived  on  the  very  highest  top. 

For  he  was  a  hunter  free, 
Where  he  could  spy,  on  the  clearest  day, 

Gleams  of  the  distant  sea. 

*'  Come  out !  come  out !"  cried  the  youngest  one ; 
"  Let  us  olf  to  look  at  the  sea  !" 
And  out  they  ran,  in  their  gayest  robes. 
And  skipped  and  tslv  with  glee. 

"  Come,  Su;*  come,  Mi;t  come,  Hu  ;|  come,  Cla  ;''§ 

Cried  laughing  little  Er;|| 
"  Let  us  go  to  yonder  deep  blue  sea. 

Where  the  breakers  foam  and  roar." 

And  on  they  scampered  by  valley  and  wood. 

By  earth  and  air  and  sky. 
Till  they  came  to  a  steep  where  the  bare  rocks  stood. 

In  a  precipice  mountain  high. 

"  Inya  !"^  cried  Er,  "here  's  a  dreadful  leap! 
But  we  are  gone  so  far. 
That,  if  we  flinch  and  return  in  fear, 
Nos**  he  will  cry,  *  Ha  1  ha !'  " 


t  Huron. 


*  Superior.  f  Michigan. 

§  St.  Clair.  ||  Erie. 

^  An  exclamation  of  wonder  and  surprise. — 0(fj.  Ian. 

**  My  father.— 76. 


i 


CIIILEELI. 

Now,  each  was  clad  in  a  vesture  light, 

That  floated  far  behind, 
With  sandals  of  frozen  water  drops, 

And  wings  of  painted  wind. 

And  down  they  plunged  with  a  merry  skip, 
Like  birds  that  skim  the  plain ; 

And  "Hey!"  they  cried,  "let  us  up  and  try, 
And  down  the  steep  again !" 

And  up  and  down  the  daughters  skipped, 

Like  girls  on  a  holiday. 
And  laughed  outright  at  the  sport  and  foam 

They  called  Niagara. 

If  yo  would  see  a  sight  so  rare. 

Where  Nature  's  in  her  glee. 
Go,  view  the  spot  in  the  wide  wild  West, 

Tlie  land  of  the  brave  and  free  ! 

But  mark — their  shapes  are  only  seen 

In  Fancy 's  deepest  play  ; 
But  she  plainly  shows  their  wings  and  feet 

In  the  dancing  sunny  spray. 


319 


in' 


II 


l! 


(. 


,    I 


'f^i 


CIIILEELI. 

Tlie  Chipi)ewas  relate  that  the  spirit  of  a  young  lover,  who 
was  killed  in  battle,  determined  to  return  to  his  afliaiiccd 
maid,  in  the  shape  of  a  bird,  and  console  her  by  his  songs. 
He  found  her  in  a  chosen  retreat,  where  she  daily  resorted  to 
pass  her  pensive  hours. 

Stay  not  here — the  men  are  base, 
I  have  found  a  happier  place, 
Where  no  war,  or  want  severe. 
Haunts  the  mind  with  thoughts  of  fear ; 
Men  are  cruel — bloody — cold. 
Seeking  like  lynx  the  rabbit's  wold, 
Not  to  guard  from  winds  or  drought. 
But  to  suck  its  life's  blood  out. 


f 


M 


*  -*«,#»«-«.-*  .-^*. 


320  CIIILEELI. 

Stcay  not  here — oh,  stay  not  here, 
'Ti.s  a  world  of  want  and  fear. 


*  ■ "' 


i:\ 


y 


0 


'V'  . 


I 


I  liave  found  those  happy  plains. 
Where  the  blissful  Si)irit  reigns, 
Such,  as  by  our  wise  men  old, 
All  our  fathers  have  foretold. 
Streams  of  sparkling  waters  flo^v. 
Pure  and  clear,  with  silver  glow  ; 
Woods  and  shady  groves  abound, 
Long  sweet  lawns  and  painted  ground  ; 
Lakes,  in  winding  shores  extend. 
Fruits,  with  flowers,  inviting  blend  ; 
While,  throughout  the  green-wood  groves, 
Gayest  birds  sing  out  their  loves. 
Stay  not  here,  my  trustful  maid, 
'Tis  a  world  for  robbers  made. 

I  will  lead  you,  soul  of  love. 
To  those  flowery  haunts  above. 
Where  no  tears  or  pain  are  found — 
Where  no  war-cry  shakes  the  ground  ; 
Where  no  mother  hangs  her  head. 
Crying :  *'  Oh,  my  child  is  dead  I" 
Where  no  human  blood  is  spilt, 
Where  there  is  no  pain,  or  guilt ; 
But  the  new-freed  spirit  roves 
Round  and  round,  in  paths  of  loves. 
Pauguk's*  not  admitted  there. 
Blue  the  skies,  and  sweet  the  air ; 
There  are  no  diseases  there ; 
There  no  famished  eyeball  rolls. 
Sickness  cannot  harm  the  souls  ; 
Hunger  is  not  there  a  guest. 
Souls  are  not  with  hunger  press'd, 
All  are  happy,  all  are  blest. 


*  Death. 


CHILEELI. 


321 


Rife  the  joys  our  fathers  soni,'ht, 
Sweet  to  eye  and  ear  and  thought, 
Stay  not  htre,  my  weeping  maid, 
'Tis  a  workl  in  glooms  arrayed. 

Wishes  there,  all  wants  supply, 
Wants  of  hand,  and  heart,  and  eye ; 
Labor  is  not  known — that  thorn 
Pricks  not  there,  at  night  or  morn. 
As  it  goads  frail  mortals  here, 
With  its  pain,  and  toil,  and  fear ; 
Shadows  typical  and  fair, 
Fill  the  woods,  the  fields,  the  air. 
Stately  deer,  the  forests  fill, 
Just  to  have  them  is  to  will ; 
Birds  walk  kindly  from  the  lakes, 
And  whoever  wants  them,  takes  ; 
There  no  drop  of  blood  is  drawn, 
Darts  are  for  an  earthy  lawn. 
Hunters,  warriors,  chiefs,  are  there, 
Plumed  and  radiant,  bright  and  fair ; 
But  they  are  the  ghosts  of  men, 
And  ne'er  mix  in  wars  again ; 
They  no  longer  rove  with  ir*;, 
Wood  or  wold,  or  sit  by  fire  ; 
Council  called — how  best  to  tear, 
From  the  gray-head  crown  its  hair. 
Dripping  with  its  vital  blood, 
Horror — echoed  in  the  wood. 
Stay  not  here — where  horrors  dwell, 
Earth  is  but  a  name  for  hell. 


ft! 


i 


Hi' 


•I 

.)  I 

it 


11! 


Oh,  the  Indian  paradise  is  sweet, 
Naught  but  smiles  the  gazers  meet ; 
All  i&  fair — the  sage's  breast. 
Swells  with  joy  to  hail  each  guest — 
Comes  he,  from  these  sounding  shoi-es, 
Or  the  North  God's  icy  stores. 
Where  the  shivering  children  cry. 
In  their  snow-cots  and  bleak  sky  ; 


i 


I 


H 


322  ON  THE  STATE  OP  THE  IROQUOIS;   OR, 

Or  the  far  receding  south, 

Burned  with  heat,  and  palsied  drought, 

All  are  welcome — all  receive, 

Gifts  great  Chibiabos  gives. 

Stay  not,  maiden — weep  no  more, 

I  have  found  the  happy  sh^re. 

Come  with  me,  and  we  will  rove. 
O'er  the  endless  plains  of  love. 
Full  of  flowers,  gems,  and  gold, 
Where  there  is  no  heart  that's  cold, 
Where  there  is  no  tear  to  dry 
In  a  single  human  eye. 
Stay  not  here  ;  cold  world  like  this, 
Death  but  opes  the  door  to  bliss. 

ON  THE  STATE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS,  OR  SIX 

NATIONS. 

In  1845,  the  Legislature  of  New  York  directed  a  census  of 
these  cantons,  which  evinced  an  advanced  state  of  industry. 

The  lordly  Iroquois  is  tending  sheep. 

Gone  are  the  plumes  that  decked  his  brow, 
For  his  bold  raid,  no  more  the  wife  shall  weep — 
He  holds  the  plough. 

Tlie  bow  and  quiver  which  his  fathers  made  ; 

The  gun,  that  filled  the  warrior's  deadliest  vow ; 
The  mace,  the  spear,  the  axe,  the  ambuscade — 
Where  are  they  now  ? 

Mute  are  the  hills  that  woke  his  dreadful  yell — 

Scared  nations  listen  with  affriglit  no  more  ; 
IIo  walks  a  farmer  over  field  and  dell 
Once  rod  with  gore. 

Frontlet  and  wampum,  baldric,  brand,  and  knife, 

Skill  of  the  megalonyx,  snake  and  fox. 
All  now  are  gonel — transformed  to  peaceful  life — 
llu  drives  the  ox. 


RSIX 

jnsus  of 
lustry. 


SIX  NATIONS.  323 

Algon,  and  Cliorokee,  and  Illinese, 

No  more  beneath  his  stalwort  blow  shall  writhe : 
Peace  spreads  her  reign  wide  o'er  his  inland  seas — 
He  swings  the  scythe. 

Grain  now,  not  men,  employs  his  manly  powers  ; 

To  learn  the  white  man's  arts,  and  skill  to  rule, 
For  this,  his  sons  and  daughters  spend  their  hours — 
They  go  to  school. 

Glory  and  fame,  that  erewhile  fired  his  sonl, 
And  nerved  for  war  his  ever  vengeful  arm. 
Whore  are  your  charms  his  bosom  to  control  ? — 
Ue  tills  a  farm. 

His  war-scar'd  visage,  paints  no  more  deform — 
His  garments,  made  of  beaver,  deer,  and  rat, 
Are  now  exchanged  for  woollen  doublets  warm- 
He  wears  a  hat. 

His  very  pipe,  surcharged  with  sacred  weed. 

Once  smoked  to  spirits  dreamy,  dread  and  sore, 
Is  laid  aside — to  think,  to  plan,  to  read — 
He  keeps  a  store. 

Tliis  is  the  law  of  progress — kindlier  arts 

Have  shaped  his  native  energies  of  mind, 
And  back  he  comes — from  wandering,  woods  and  darts 
Back  to  mankind. 


-',, 


m,'. 


n 


His  drum  and  rattles,  botli  are  thrown  away — 

His  native  altars  stand  without  a  bla/.i', — 
Truth,  robed  in  gospel  light,  liath  found  her  way — 
And  hark  I  ho  prays ! 


324 


THE  loon's  foot. 


THE  LOON'S  FOOT. 

I  Tiiorr.HT  it  was  the  loon's  foot,  I  saw  Ijencath  tlie  tide, 
But  no — it  was  my  lover's  shining  paddle  I  espied  ; 
It  was  my  lover's  paddle,  as  my  glance  I  upward  cast. 
That  dipj)ed  so  light  and  gracefully  as  o'er  the  lake  I  passed. 
Tlie  loon's  foot — the  loon's  foot, 

'Tis  graceful  on  the  sea ; 
But  not  so  light  and  joyous  as 
That  paddle  blade  to  me. 


I 


My  eyes  were  hent  upon  the  wave,  I  cast  thera  not  aside, 
And  thought  I  saw  the  loon's  foot  beneatli  the  silver  tide. 
But  ah !  my  eyes  deceived  me — for  as  my  glance  I  cast. 
It  was  my  lover's  paddle  blade  that  dipped  so  light  and  fast. 
The  loon's  foot — the  loon's  foot, 

'Tis  sweei  i..  l  Tair  to  see, 
But  oh,  my  I '       r;  paddle  blade, 
Is  sweeter   ,»'■    <>  me. 


The  lake's  wave — the  long  wave — the  billow  ])ig  and  free, 
It  wafts  me  up  and  down,  within  my  yellow  light  canoe  ; 
But  while  I  see  beneath  heaven  pictured  as  I  speed. 
It  is  that  beauteous  paddle  blade,  that  makes  it  heaven  in- 
deed. 

Tlie  loon's  foot — the  loon's  foot, 

Tlie  bird  ujk)!!  the  sea. 
Ah !  it  is  not  so  beauteous 
As  that  paddle  blade  to  me. 


TULCO,  rillNCE  OF  NOTTO.  325 


n 


ssed. 


fast. 


ee, 

e; 

ran  in- 


TULCO,  PRINCE  OF  NOTTO. 

Tulco,  a  Cherokee  chief,  is  said  to  have  visited,  in  1838, 
the  rotunda,  or  excavations,  under  the  great  mound  of  Grave 
Creek,  while  the  Indian  antiquities  were  collected  there,  and 
the  skeleton  found  in  the  lower  vault  was  suspended  to  the 
wall,  and  the  exudations  of  animal  matter  depended  from  the 
roof. 

'Tis  not  enough  that  hated  race 

Should  hunt  us  out  from  grove  and  jAace, 

And  consecrated  shores,  where  long 

Our  fathers  raised  the  lance  and  song — 

'Tis  not  enough  that  we  must  go 

Where  unknown  streams  and  fountains  How, 

Whose  murmurs  heard  amid  our  fe;irs, 

Fall  only  now  on  foeman's  ears — 

'Tis  not  enough,  that  with  a  wand 

They  sweep  away  our  pleasant  land^ 

And  bid  us,  as  some  giant  foe, 

Or  willing  or  unwilling  go; 

But  they  must  ope  our  very  graves, 

To  tel'  the  dead  they  too  are  slaves ! 

And  hang  their  bones  upon  the  wall. 

To  please  their  gaze  and  gust  of  thrall ; 

As  if  a  dead  dog  from  Iwlow 

Were  made  a  jesting-stock  and  show! 

See,  from  above !  the  restless  dead 
Peer  out,  with  exudation  dread — 
That  hangs  in  robes  of  chvUimy  wliite, 
Like  clouds  upon  the  inky  night ; 
Their  very  ghosts  are  in  this  place, 
I  see  them  pass  before  my  face  ; 
With  frowniug  brows  they  whirl  arouutl 
Within  this  consecrated  mound  ! 
Away — away,  vile  caitiif  race, 
And  give  the  dead  their  resting-place. 
28 


IW 


^w.\ 


326 


ON  PRESENTING  A  WILD  ROSE. 


Tlify  point — they  cry — they  hkl  m'^  smite 

The  Wa-bish-kiz-zee*  in  their  sight  I 

Did  Europe  come  to  crush  us  dead, 

Because  on  flying  deer  we  fed, 

And  worshipped  gods  of  airy  forms, 

Who  ride  in  thumier-clouds,  the  storms  ? 

Because  we  use  not  plough  or  loom, 

Is  ours  a  black  and  bitter  doom 

That  has  no  light — no  world  of  bliss  ? — 

Then  is  our  hell  commenced  in  this. 
*  *  m  * 

Nay,  ft  is  well — but  tell  me  not 

The  white  race  now  possess  the  spot, 

That  fury  marks  my  brow,  and  all 

I  see  is  but  my  fancy's  pall 

That  glooms  my  eyes — ah,  white  man,  no  I 

The  woe  we  taste  is  solid  woe. 

Comes  then  the  thought  of  better  things, 

When  we  were  men,  and  we  were  kings. 

Men  are  we  now,  and  still  there  rolls 

A  monarch's  blood  iu  all  our  souls  I 

A  warrior's  lire  is  in  our  hearts, 

Our  hands  are  strong  in  feathery  darts ; 

And  let  us  die  as  they  have  died 

Who  are  the  Indian's  boast  and  pride ! 

Nor  creep  to  graves,  in  flying  west, 

Unplumed,  dishonored,  and  unblest  I 


i' 


ON  PRESENTING  A  WILD  ROSE 

PLUCKKI)  ON  THE  SOURCES  OF  TUE  MlSSISSll'l'I. 

Take  thou  the  rose,  though  blighted. 

Its  sweetness  is  not  gone. 
And  like  the  heart,  though  slighted, 

In  memory  it  blooms  on. 


*  Whit©  men. 


THE  RED  MAN. 


327 


Thy  hand  its  leaves  may  nourish, 
Thy  smiles  its  bloom  restore ; 

So  warmed  its  buds  may  llourish, 
And  bloom  to  life  once  more. 

Yet  if  they  bloom  not  ever, 

These  thoughts  may  life  impart 

To  hopes  I  ne'er  could  sever 
One  moment  from  my  heart. 

Oh,  then,  receive  my  token, 
From  far-off  northern  sky, 

That  speech,  once  kindly  spoken, 
Can  never — never  die. 


THE  RED  MAN. 

I  STOOD  upon  an  eminence,  that  wide 
O'erlooked  a  length  of  land,  where  spread 
The  sounding  shores  of  Lake  Superior  ; 
And  at  my  side  there  lay  a  vale 
Replete  with  little  glens,  where  oft 
The  Indian  wigwam  rose,  and  little  fields 
Of  waving  corn  displayed  their  tassel  led  heads. 
A  stream  ran  through  the  vale,  and  on  its  marge 
There  grew  wild  rice,  and  bending  alders  dipped 
Into  the  tide,  and  on  the  rising  heights 
The  ever-verdant  pine  laughed  in  the  breeze. 


'! 

:  i 


1^, 
1^' 


«i: 


I  turned  around,  to  gaze  upon  the  scenes 
More  perfectly,  and  there  beheld  a  man 
Tall  and  erect,  with  feathers  on  his  liead, 
And  air  and  step  majestic  ;  in  his  hands 
Held  he  a  bow  and  arrows,  and  he  would  have  passed, 
Intent  on  other  scene,  but  that  I  spake  to  him : 
*•  Pray,  M'hither  comest  thou  f  and  whither  goest  ?" 
"  My  coming,"  he  rei)lied,  "  is  from  the  Master  of  life, 
The  Lord  of  all  things,  and  I  go  at  his  commands.'' 


328 


THE  RED  MAN. 


"  Then  why,"  I  further  parleyed,  "  since  thou  art 

So  mucli  tlie  friend  of  Hini,  whom  white  men  seek 

]Jy  prayer  and  rite  so  fervently  to  obey — why,  tell, 

Art  thou  so  oft  in  want  of  e'en  a  meal 

To  satisfy  the  cravings  of  a  man  ?    Why  cast  abroad 

To  live  in  wilds,  where  oft  the  scantiest  shajies 

Of  foot  and  wing  must  fill  thy  board,  while  pallid  hunger 

strays 
With  hideous  shouts,  by  mountain,  vale,  and  stream  ?" 

"Tlie  Great  Spirit,"  he  replied,  "hal..   .ot  a       ; 
Made  all  men ;  or,  if  once  alike,  the  force  of  climes, 
And  wants  and  wanderings  have  estranged  them  (^uite. 
To  me,  and  to  my  kind,  forest,  and  lake,  and  wood, 
The  rising  mountain,  and  the  drawn-out  stream 
That  sweeps,  meandering,  through  wild  ranges  vast, 
Possess  a  charm  no  marble  halls  can  give. 
Wo  rove,  as  winds  escaped  the  INIaster's  fists — 
Now,  sweeping  over  beds  of  prairie  flowers — 
Now,  dallying  on  the  tops  of  leafy  trees. 
Or  murmuring  in  the  corn-fields,  and,  when  tired 
With  roving,  we  lie  down  on  beds  where  springs 
The  simple  wild  flower,  and  some  shreds  of  bark. 
Plucked  from  the  white,  white  birch,  defends  our  heads, 
And  hides  us  from  the  blue  ethereal  skies. 
Where,  in  his  sovereign  majesty,  this  Spirit  rules ; 
Now,  casting  lightning  from  his  glowing  eyes — 
Now,  uttering  thunder  with  his  mighty  voice. 


i 


I 


"To  you,  engendered  in  another  clime 
Of  wliich  our  fathers  knew  not,  he  hath  given 
Arts,  arms,  and  skill  we  know  not,  or  if  ever  knew. 
Have  quite  forgot.     Your  hands  are  thickened  up 
With  toils  of  field  and  shop,  where  whirring  wheels  resound. 
And  hammers  clink.     The  anvil  aud  the  plough 
Belong  to  you ;  the  very  ox  construes  your  speech, 
And  turns  him  to  obey  you.     All  this  toil 
We  deem  a  slavery  too  heavy  to  be  borne, 
And  which  our  tribes  revolt  at.     Oft  we  stand 


THE  RED  MAN. 


329 


To  view  the  reeking  smith,  wlio  pounds  his  iron 

With  blow  on  blow,  to  fit  it  for  the  beast 

That  drags  your  ploughshares  through  the  rooty  soil. 

The  very  streams — bright  ribbons  of  the  woods  ! — are  yoked, 

And  made  to  turn  your  mills,  and  grind  your  corn ; 

And  yet  this  progress  stays  not  in  its  toils 

To  alter  nature  and  pervert  her  plans. 

Steam  drags  your  vessels  now,  that  onco 

Leapt  in  their  beauty  by  the  winds  of  heaven. 

Some  subtle  principle  ye  find  in  fire. 

And  with  a  cunning  art  lit  rattling  cars 

To  run  on  strips  of  iron,  with  scream  and  clang 

That  seem  symbolic  of  an  angry  power 

Which  dwells  below,  and  is  infernal  called. 

The  war-crowned  lightning  skips  from  pole  to  pole 

On  strings  of  iron,  to  haste  with  quick  intelligence. 

"Once,  nature  could  be  hid,  and  fondly  think 
She  had  some  jewels  in  the  earth,  but  now  ye  dig 
Into  her  very  bowels,  to  recover  morsels  sweet 
She  erst  with  deglutition  had  drawn  in.     The  rocks 
Your  toils  dissolve,  to  find  perchance  some  treasure 
Lying  there.     Is  yonder  land  of  gold  alouo 
Your  care  ?    Observe  along  these  shores 
The  wheezing  engine  clank — the  stamper  ring. 
Once,  hawks  and  eagles  here  pursued  their  prey, 
But  now  the  white  man  ravens  more  than  they. 
Nol  give  me  but  my  water  and  God's  meats. 
And  take  your  cares,  your  riches,  and  your  thrones. 
What  the  Great  Spirit  gives,  I  take  with  joy. 
And  scorn  those  gains  which  nothing  can  content. 


i! 


!■) 


i  I 


i 


I 


% 


"  Drudge  ye,  and  grind  ye,  white  man  1  make  your  pence, 
And  store  your  purses  with  the  shining  poison. 
It  was  ^  ot  Manito  who  made  this  trash 
To  curse  the  human  race,  but  Vatipa  the  black. 
Who  rules  below — he  changed  the  blood  of  innocence 
And  tears  of  pity  into  gold,  and  strewed  it  wide 
O'er  lands  where  still  the  murderer  digs 

28* 


330 


THE  SKELETON  WRAPPED  IN  GOLD. 


And  the  (Te(*ei)tious  dolve,  to  find  tlio  cockle  out 
And  pick  it  uiJ,  but  laughs  the  while  to  see 
What  fools  they  are,  and  how  himself  has  foiled 
The  Spirit  of  Good,  that  made  mankind 
Erst  friends  and  brothers.     Scanty  is  my  food, 
But  that  sweet  bird,  chileelee,  blue  of  wing. 
Sings  songs  of  j^eace  within  the  wild-wood  dell 
And  round  the  enchanted  shores  of  these  blue  seas— 
Not  long,  perhaps,  our  own — which  tell  me  of  a  rest 
In  far-off  lands — the  islands  of  the  blest !" 


t| 


THE  SKELETON  WRAPPED  IN  GOLD. 

In  digging,  in  1854,  a  railroad  in  Chili,  seventy  feet  below 
the  surface,  in  a  sandy  plain,  which  had  been  an  ancient 
graveyard,  an  Indian  skeleton,  wrapped  in  a  sheet  of  solid 
gold,  rolled  into  the  excavation.  Its  appearance  denoted  an 
ancient  Inca,  of  the  Atacama  period. 

The  Indian  laid  in  his  shroud  of  gold, 
Where  his  friends  had  kindly  bound  him ; 

For,  in  their  raid  so  strong  and  bold, 
The  Spaniards  had  never  found  him. 

Kind  guardian  spirits  had  watched  him  there, 

From  ages  long — long  faded, 
Embalmed  with  gems  and  spices  rare, 

And  in  folds  of  sweet  grass  braided. 

And  priestly  rites  were  duly  done, 

And  hymns  upraised  to  bless  him, 
And  that  gold  mantle  of  the  sun. 

Put  on,  as  a  monarch  to  dress  him. 

"  Sleep  on,"  they  said,  in  whispers  low, 
"  Nor  fear  the  white  man's  coming. 
For  we  have  put  no  glyph  to  show, 
The  spot  of  thy  entombing. 


ll 


THE  SKELETON  WRAPPED  IN  GOLD. 


331 


"  Inca,  thy  warfare  here  is  clone, 
Each  bitter  scene  or  tender, 
Go  to  thy  sire,  the  shining  Sun, 
In  kingly  garb  and  splendor. 

"  Earth  hath  no  honors  thou  hast  not, 
Brave,  wise,  in  every  station, 
Or  battle,  temple,  council,  cot, 
Beloved  of  all  tl  y  nation. 

"  Take  thou  this  wand  of  magic  miglit. 
With  signet-jewels  glowing. 
As  heralds  to  the  God  of  Light, 
Where,  father,  thou  art  going. 

"  A  thousand  years  the  charm  shall  last, 
The  charm  of  thy  ensealment, 
Till  there  shall  come  a  spirit  vast. 
To  trouble  thy  concealment." 

And  safe  he  slept  in  Tlalcol's*  train, 

With  all  his  genii  by  him. 
Through  Atacama's  pleasing  reign, 

Ere  Manco  came  a-nigh  him. 

That  golden  reign  spread  arts  anew. 

O'er  all  his  Andes  mountains. 
And  temples  that  his  sires  ne'er  knew, 

Arose  beside  their  fountains. 

Pizarro's  bloody  day  flew  past. 
Nor  shook  his  place  of  sleeping, 

Though,  as  with  earthquakes,  deep  and  vast. 
The  land  with  ruins  heaping. 

Nor  had  the  cherished  ruler  more. 
Broke  the  deep  trance  from  under, 

But  that  a  stronger,  sterner  power. 
Arose  the  charm  to  sunder. 


*  TIalcol,  the  keeper  of  the  dead,  corresponds  to  the  Che- 
biabo  of  the  Algontiuins. 


332  WAUB  OJEEO'S  DEATH  WHISPERINGS. 

No  gentle  genii  more  could  wield, 
The  wand  of  his  dominion  ; 

No  power  of  Indian  guardian  yield, 
Or  wave  her  golden  pinion. 

It  was  the  spirit  of  progress  fell, 
And  trade,  and  gain  united, 

Who  swore  an  oath,  and  kept  it  well. 
That  Tlalcol's  blessing  blighted. 

Deep  dug  they  down  in  Chili's  hills. 
Deep — deeper  laid  their  levels, 

To  drive  those  cars,  whose  screaming  fills 
The  ear,  with  sounds  like  devils. 

And  as  they  dug,  they  sang  and  dug. 

As  digging  for  a  treasure, 
That  should,  like  dire  Arabic  drug. 

Rise,  with  unmeasured  measure. 

Old  Indian  arts,  and  Indian  spells. 
And  all  their  subtle  seeming. 

Passed  quick  away — as  truth  expels, 
The  palsied  power  in  dreaming. 


ill 


Down  rolled  the  cherished  Indian  corse, 
The  sands  no  more  could  hold  him. 

Nor  rite — nor  genii — art  or  force. 
Nor  golden  shroud  enfold  him. 


WAUB  OJEEG'S  DEATH  WHISPERINGS. 

I  oo  to  the  land  where  our  heroes  are  gone,  are  gone, 
That  land  where  our  sages  are  gone  ; 
And  I  go  with  bright  tone,  to  join  hearts  who  are  one. 
That  drew  the  bold  dart  at  my  side,  at  my  side, 
Tliat  drew  the  bold  dart  at  my  side. 


] 


WAUB  OJEEO'S  DEATH  WniSPERINGS.  333 

Those  lands  in  the  bright  beamy  west,  the  west, 
Those  lands  in  the  bright  beamy  west, 
As  our  fathers  foretold,  are  the  plenty  crowned  fold. 
Where  the  world-weary  warrior  may  rest,  may  rest, 
Where  the  war-honored  hero  may  rest. 

My  life  has  been  given  to  war,  to  war, 

My  strength  has  been  offered  to  war. 

And  the  foes  of  my  laud,  ne'er  before  me  could  stand, 

But  fled  as  base  cowards  iu  fear,  in  fear, 

They  fled  like  base  cowards  in  fear. 

My  warfare  in  life  it  is  done,  it  is  done, 

My  warfare,  my  friends,  it  is  done  ; 

I  go  to  that  Spirit,  whose  form  in  the  sky, 

So  oft  we  have  seen  in  the  cloud-garnished  sun, 

So  oft  in  dread  lightning  espy. 

My  friends,  when  my  spirit  is  fled,  is  fled. 

My  friends,  when  my  spirit  is  fled. 

Ah,  put  me  not  bound,  in  the  dark  and  cold  ground, 

Where  light  shall  no  longer  be  shed,  be  shed. 

Where  daylight  no  more  shall  be  shed. 

But  lay  me  up  scaffolded  high,  all  high, 

Chiefs,  lay  me  up  scaffolded  high, 

Where  my  tribe  shall  still  say,  as  they  point  to  my  clay, 

He  ne'er  from  the  foe  sought  to  fly,  to  fly, 

He  ne'er  from  the  foe  sought  to  fly. 

And  children,  who  play  on  the  shore,  the  shore, 
And  children  who  play  on  the  shore, 
As  the  war-dance  they  beat,  my  name  shall  repeat, 
And  the  fate  of  their  chieftain  deplore,  deplore, 
And  the  fate  of  their  chieftain  deplore. 


'J! 


334 


TO  THE  MISCODEED. 


TO  THE  MISCODEED.* 

Thy  petals,  tipped  with  red,  declare 
The  sanguinary  rites  of  war ; 
But  when  I  view  thy  base  of  white, 
Thoughts  of  heaven's  purity  invite. 
Symbols  at  once  that  hearts  like  thee 
Contain  two  powers,  in  whicli  we  see 
A  passion  strong  to  war  inclined. 
And  a  soft,  pure,  and  tender  mind. 


\t 


Earliest  of  buds  when  snows  decay 
From  these  wild  northern  fields  away, 
Thou  comest  as  a  herald  dear. 
To  tell  us  that  the  spring  is  near ; 
And  shall  with  sweets  and  flowers  relume 
Our  hearts,  for  all  the  winter's  gloom. 
Soon  the  opeecheef  comes  to  sing 
The  pleasures  of  an  early  spring  ; 
Soon  shall  the  swelling  water's  roar 
Tell  us  that  winter  is  no  more  ; 
The  water-fowl  set  up  their  cry. 
Or  hasten  to  more  northern  sky  ; 
And  on  the  sandy  shore  shall  stray, 
The  plover,  the  twee-tweesh-ke-way. 
Soon  shall  the  budding  trees  expand. 
And  genial  skies  pervade  the  land ; 
The  little  garden  hoes  shall  peck. 
And  female  hands  the  moss  beds  deck  ; 
The  apple-tree  refresh  our  sight. 
With  its  fair  blows  of  pink  and  white  ; 
The  cherry  bloom,  the  strawberry  run, 
And  joy  fill  all  the  new  Seegwun.t 


*  Spring  beauty,  C.  Virg. 


t  Robin. 


t  Spring. 


I 


THE  STAR  FAMILY. 


335 


THE  STAR  FAMILY. 


Waupee  found  a  deep-trod  circle 
In  the  boundless  prairie  wide ; 

In  the  grassy  sea  of  prairies, 
Without  trace  of  path  beside. 

To  or  fro,  there  was  no  token 
Man  had  ever  trod  the  plain ; 

And  he  gazed  upon  the  wonder, 
Gazed  the  wonder  to  explain. 


V 


I  will  watch  tlie  place,  quoth  Waupee, 
And  conceal  myself  awhile  ; 

This  strange  mystery  to  unravel, 
This  new  thing  to  reconcile. 

Tracks  I  know  of  deer  and  bison. 
Tracks  uf  panther,  lynx,  or  hind, 

Beasts  and  birds  of  every  nature, 
But  this  beaten  ring  is  blind. 

Do  the  spirits  here  assemble. 

War-dance  light  to  trip  and  sing? 

Gather  Medas  of  the  prairie. 

Here  their  magic  charm  to  fling  ? 


Waupee  crept  beneath  the  bushes, 
Near  the  wondrous  magic  ring  ; 

Close  beneath  the  shrubs  and  grasses, 
To  behold  so  rare  a  thing. 


Soon  he  heard,  high  in  the  heavens. 
Issuing  from  the  feathery  clouds — 

Sounds  of  music,  quick  descending, 
As  if  angels  came  in  crowds. 


336 


THE  STAR  FAMILY. 


Louder,  sweeter,  was  the  music. 
Every  moment  that  he  stayed  ; 

Till  a  basket,  with  twelve  sisters, 
Was  with  all  its  charms  displayed. 


n 


if 


Down  they  came,  in  air  suspended, 

As  if  by  thin  silver  cords; 
And  within  the  circle  landed, 

Gay  and  bright  as  beauteous  birds. 

Out  they  leaped  with  nimble  gestures, 
Dancing  softly  round  and  round ; 

Each  a  ball  of  silver  chiming. 
With  the  most  enchanting  sound. 

Beauteous  were  they  all — but  one  so 
More  than  all  the  other  eleven, 

Youngest  she,  he  sighed  to  clasp  her 
To  his  ardent,  glowing  breast. 

Up  he  rose  from  his  concealment, 
From  his  flower-encircled  bed  ; 

But,  as  quick-oyed  birds,  they  spied  him, 
Stepped  into  the  car  and  fled. 


Fled  into  the  starry  heavens, 
While  with  open  ear  ho  stood, 

Drinking  the  receding  music, 
A»  it  left  his  solitude. 


Now,  indeed,  was  he  a  stranger, 

And  a  fugitive  alone ; 
For  the  peace  that  once  ho  clierislu'd, 

With  the  lieaveuly  car  had  llowii. 

Touched  his  heart  was  by  love's  fervors, 
He  no  longer  wished  to  rovo  ; 

Lost  the  charm  of  war  and  hunting, 
Waupee  was  transflxod  by  love. 


^f 


THE  STAR  FAMILY. 

Ah !  'tis  love  that  wins  the  savage 
From  his  wanderings,  and  can  teach, 

Where  the  truth  could  never  touch  him, 
Where  the  gospel  could  not  reach. 

Long  he  mourned — and  lingering,  waited 
Round  the  charmed  celestial  ring ; 

Day  hy  day  he  lingered,  hoping 
Once  to  hear  those  angels  sing. 

To  deceive,  the  quick  eyes  glancing, 

An  opossum's  form  he  tries  ; 
And  crouched  low,  beside  the  circle. 

Stooped,  that  he  might  win  the  prize. 

Soon  the  sounds  ho  heard  descending, 
Soon  they  leaped  within  the  ring  ; 

Joining  hand  in  hand  in  dancing. 
Round  and  round — sweet  revelling. 

Up  he  rose,  quick  disenchanted, 
Rose  and  clasped  his  female  star. 

While,  as  lightning,  quick  the  eleven 
Leaped,  and  rose  within  their  car. 

Home  he  took  her  to  his  wigwam. 
Sought  each  varied  May  to  please  ; 

Gave  lier  flowers  and  rarest  presents, 
All  to  yield  her  joy  and  ease. 

And  a  beauteous  son  rewarded 
Love  so  constant,  true,  and  mild  ; 

Who  renewed  in  every  feature, 
Nature's  lonely  forest  child. 

But,  as  thoughts  of  youth  will  linger 
Long  within  the  heart's  fond  con^ ; 

So  she  nursed  the  pleasing  passion, 
Her  star-home  to  see  once  more — 


337 


i 


29 


f 


: 


388  .  THE  STAR  FAMILY. 

Made  an  ark  of  wicker  branches, 

All  by  secret  arts  and  care ; 
Sought  the  circle  with  her  earth-boy, 

Fleeing  to  her  Father  star. 

There,  at  length,  the  boy  grew  weary, 
Weary  e'en  of  heavenly  spheres, 

Longing  for  earth's  cares  and  pleasures, 
Hunting,  feasting,  joys,  and  tears. 

"  Call  thy  husband,"  quoth  the  star  chief, 

"  Take  the  magic  car  and  go ; 
But  bring  with  thee  some  fit  emblems, 

Of  the  sounding  chase  below. 

"Claw,  or  wing,  or  toe,  or  feathei-s, 

Scalp  of  bird  or  beast  to  tell ; 
Wliat  he  follows  in  the  wood-chase, 

Arts  the  hunter  knows  so  well." 

Waupee  searched  the  deepest  forests, 
rrairies  vast,  or  valleys  low  ; 

All  to  find  out  the  rarest  species, 
That  he  might  the  star-world  show. 

Tlion  ho  sought  the  ring  of  magic, 
With  his  forest  stores  so  rare ; 

And  within  the  starry  basket. 
Rose  'vith  all  his  emblems  fair. 

Joys  of  greeting — ^joys  of  seeing — 
Hand  to  hand,  and  4*ye  to  eye ; 

These  o'ercrowned  with  smiles  and  laughing. 
This  lodge-meeting  in  the  sky. 


Then  a  glorious  feast  was  ordered. 
To  receive  the  forest  guest ; 

While  the  HW»>et  reunion  lighted, 
Joy  in  every  beating  breast. 


SONG  OP  THE  WOLF-BROTHER. 

Broad  the  feasting  board  was  covered, 
The  high  starry  group  to  bind ; 

When  the  star  chief  rose  to  utter 
His  congratulations  kind. 

"  List,  my  guests— the  Spirit  wills  it, 
Earth  to  earth,  and  sky  to  sky  ; 

Choose  ye  each  a  claw  or  pinion, 
Such  as  ye  may  wish  to  try." 

Wondrous  change !  by  arts'  trans fonnance, 

At  the  typic  heavenly  feast ; 
Each  who  chose  a  wing  a  bird  was. 

Each  who  chose  a  claw,  a  beast. 

Oflf  they  ran  on  plains  of  silver, 

S(iuirrel,  rabbit,  elk,  or  deer ; 
White  Hawk  chose  a  wing,  descending 

Down  again  to  forests  here, 

Where  the  Waupees  are  still  noted 
For  their  high  essays  of  wing  ; 

And  their  noble  deeds  of  bravery. 
In  the  forest,  mount,  and  ring. 


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SONG  OF  THE  WOLF-BROTIIER. 

Nesia,  my  elder  brother. 

Bones  have  been  my  forest  meal, 

Shared  with  wolves  the  long,  long  winter. 
And  their  nature  now  I  feel. 


Ni'sia,  my  elder  brother, 

Now  my  fate  is  near  its  close ; 

Soon  my  state  shall  cease  to  i)res8  me. 
Soon  shall  cease  my  day  of  woes. 


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SONG  OF  THE  WOLF-BROTHER. 


Left  by  friends  I  loved  the  dearest, 
All  who  knew  and  loved  me  most ; 

Woes  the  darkest  and  severest, 
Bide  me  on  this  barren  coast. 

Pity !  ah,  that  manly  feeling, 

Fled  from  hearts  where  once  it  grew, 

Nov\r  in  wolfish  forms  revealing, 
Glows  more  warmly  than  in  you. 

Stony  hearts !  that  saw  me  languish, 

Deaf  to  all  a  father  said. 
Deaf  to  all  a  mother's  anguish. 

All  a  brother's  feelings  fled. 

Ah,  ye  wolves,  in  all  your  ranging, 
I  have  found  you  kind  and  true  ; 

More  than  man — and  now  I'm  changing, 
And  will  soon  be  one  of  you. 

Lodge  of  kindred  once  respected. 
Now  my  heart  abhors  your  plan ; 

Hated,  shunned,  disowned,  neglected, 
Wolves  are  truer  far  than  man. 


And  like  them,  I'll  be  a  rover, 

With  an  honesty  of  bite 
Tliat  feigns  not  to  be  a  lover. 

When  the  heart  o'erflows  with  spite. 

Go,  ye  traitors,  to  my  lodge-fire ; 

Go,  ye  serpents,  swift  to  flee, 
War  with  kinds  that  have  your  natures, 

I  am  disenthrall'd  and  free. 


ABBINOCHI. 


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ABBINOCHI. 

A  mother's  chant  to  her  sick  infant. 

Abbinochi,*  baby  dear, 
Leave  me  not — ah,  leave  me  not ; 
I  have  nursed  with  love  sincere, 
Nursed  thee  in  my  forest  cot — 
Tied  thee  in  thy  cradle  trim 
Kind  adjusting  every  limb  ; 
With  the  fairest  beads  and  bands 
Deck'd  thy  cradle  with  my  hands, 
And  with  sweetest  corn  panad 
From  my  little  kettle  fed, 
Oft  with  miscodeedf  roots  shred, 
Fed  thee  in  thy  baby  bed. 

Abbinochi,  droop  not  so. 
Leave  me  not — away  to  go 
To  strange  lands— thy  little  feet 
Are  not  grown  the  path  to  greet 
Or  lind  out,  with  none  io  show 
Where  the  flowers  of  grave-land  grow. 
Slay,  my  dear  one,  stay  till  grown, 
I  will  lead  thee  to  that  zone 
Where  the  stars  like  silver  shine, 
And  the  scenes  are  all  divine, 
And  the  happy,  happy  stray, 
And,  like  Abbinochi,  play. 


*  A  child. 


t  Claytonia  Virginioa. 


342 


TO  PAUaUK. 


TO  PAUGUK. 

(This  is  the  impersonation  of  death  in  Indian  mythology. 
He  ia  rejireseuted  with  a  bow  and  arrows.) 

Pauguk !  'tis  a  scene  of  woe, 

This  world  of  troubles  ;  let  me  go 

Arm'd  to  show  forth  the  Master's  will, 

Strike  on  thy  purpose  to  fulfil. 

I  fear  not  death — my  only  fear 

Is  ills  and  woes  that  press  me  here. 

Want  stares  me  in  the  face,  or  woe, 

Where'er  I  dwell — where'er  I  go ; 

Fishing  and  hunting  only  give 

The  pinching  means  to  let  me  live ; 

And  if,  at  night,  I  lay  me  down. 

In  dreams  and  sleep  my  rest  to  crown, 

Ere  day  awakes  its  slumbering  eyes, 

I  start  to  hear  the  foe's  mad  cries. 

Louder  and  louder,  as  I  clutch 

My  club,  or  lance,  or  bow  and  dart. 

And,  springing  with  a  panther's  touch. 

Display  the  red  mun's  bloody  art. 


Nay,  I  am  sick  of  life  and  blood. 
That  drowns  my  country  like  a  flood. 
Pouring  o'er  hill,  and  vale,  and  lea, 
Lodge,  ville,  and  council,  like  a  sea. 
Where  one  must  gasp  and  gasp  for  breath 
To  live — and  stay  the  power  of  death. 
Ah !  life's  good  things  are  all  too  poor. 
Its  daily  hardships  to  endure. 
My  fathers  told  me,  there's  a  land 
Where  peace  and  joy  abound  in  hand. 
And  plenty  smiles,  and  sweetest  scenes 
Expand  in  lakes,  and  groves,  and  greens. 
No  pain  or  hunger  there  is  known. 
And  pleasure  reigns  throughout  alone — 


TO  PAUGUK. 

I  would  go  there,  and  taste  and  see 
A  life  so  beauteous,  bless 'd  and  free, 
Where  man  has  no  more  power  to  kill, 
And  the  Great  Spirit  all  things  fills. 
Blanch  not,  Pauguk,  I  have  no  fear, 
And  would  not  longer  linger  here  ; 
But  bend  thy  bow  and  aim  thy  dart, 
Behold  an  honest  hunter's  heart : 
Thereby  a  dart,  a  boon  may  give, 
A  happy  life  on  high  to  live. 

'Tis  all  the  same,  in  countries  here, 

Or  where  Pacific  billows  roar. 
We  roved  in  want,  and  woe  and  fear 

Along  the  Mississippi  shore. 
And  where  Missouri's  waters  rush, 

To  tell  to  man  that  God  is  strong, 
We  shrank  as  from  a  tiger's  touch, 

To  hear  the  white  man's  shout  or  song. 
O  not  for  us  is  peace  and  joy 

Arising  from  the  race  that  spread. 
Their  purpose  only's  to  destroy — 

Our  only  peace  is  with  the  dead. 
Think  not  my  heart  is  pale  witli  fear, 
But  strike,  Pauguk— strike  boldly  here. 


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